In love again

The Lycan Alpha and His Second Chance Mate

Scarlett Davis had her life all beautifully planned out until the day she saw her boyfriend of ten years kissing another girl. Heartbroken, she dashed off. One thing led to another and she ended up having a one night stand with a fine stranger she later found out to be the infamous puppet Lycan Alpha. Her life took a drastic turn soon after. Scarlett must decide to ride to the tide or steer the ride.

The Lycan King and His Substitute Bride

Lia Blake's last summer in high school and prom night ended up being her worst summer and prom night ever. Her crush found his mate and abandoned her. Broken, she fled from the pack to where no one knew her to settle in but that night, she appeared before the Lycan king as his bride. *************************** Slowly, he shifted away the portion of the white veil covering her lips, then he leaned in and his lips claimed hers. But it lasted for a moment as the guards stormed into the hall. "The Lycan Luna is gone! That woman is an intruder!" At once he tore his lips away from her, gripped the veil and flung away. His grey eyes darkened as he realised the woman before him wasn't his bride. "Seize her!" The cold hardhearted Lycan king had commanded and she was at once seized and thrown into his dungeon. Derrick Kings, the Lycan king and leader of four packs. The Alphas, werewolves and Lycans obey his commands. His past and secret hunted him and turned him into a beast with his enemies lurking and waiting to strike him down at any chance. But what he didn't know was how fast his life would change the moment an unknown woman appeared before him as his bride. What would be the fate of Lia Blake, will she survive the wrath of the hardhearted Lycan King whose secret and past hunted, Or will she regret ever leaving her pack?

Claiming the Billionaire's Frosty Heart

His gaze held me. Fine dark eyes. Those eyes... where had I seen them... Then it hit me. The snob at the club. What was he doing in Mr Hendricks house and in the young Master's room? Wait... Was he an old servant I hadn't met or a new man servant? I scanned him. He looked nothing like a servant. The aura from him felt nothing like the one a servant could possess. His eyes pinched and he took a step towards me. "Did you not just hear me? What are you doing in my house?" His tone was icy. His house? There was only one person aside from Mr Hendricks that could say those words... Young master, Jay Adams! I looked at him again and hell the resemblance struck me. My jaw hung open and for a moment I felt my body go numb. *********** Jay Adams was a perfect man. More like a demigod that commanded both wealth and power. Women swooned over him and wanted a taste of him but he hated women. He does not believe in love. Beneath the tough exterior, beneath his million dollar tuxedo and his coldness were his flaws. And then there was Karen, a complete opposite of him. Poor with a sick father, a sister to cater for and saddled with debts. What will happen when these two cross paths?

Forbidden Love: Dangerous Addiction

Tiffany let out an exasperated breath. She was right. She had been right about him all along. He was nothing but a rich arrogant prat. Unfortunately she wasn't about to waste her energy on people like him. "How about we pretend we never met and just work?" She said to him, keeping her tone cold and eyes firm. Ronald made a face. "Wait, don't tell me you are thinking I came here for something other than work?" Tiffany's eyes widened. "What?" He approached her, closing up the distance between them. "Earlier on, you seem to have so much interest in my face," he said, lowering his lips to whisper the words into her ears. "Don't tell me you are already thinking of something else to do with me other than work...perhaps..." Tiffany gulped roughly and bit down on her lower lip. "..." ********* Ronald Ryker is the heir of a well-known conglomerate and was constantly surrounded by women. But none of them moved him. Not until he met Tiffany, a single mother and older woman who immediately captured his attention. But Tiffany had no interest in him. Not in his wealth and definitely not his hot look.

Taming the Ruthless Mafia Billionaire

“People afraid of death are greedy for life.” That was the belief of Alessandro Angelo, the Italian mafia billionaire. The one who fears no one, not even death. He lived his life everyday as if it was his last. Trained only to obey orders and keep no emotions. But what happens when he comes across a cheerful, bubbly Isabella Marco, the girl whose charm could lit up even the darkest portion of the coldest heart. Slowly and unknowingly for Alessandro, he started to want more; getting greedy for life, gradually going against his life principle. One day an order came in: “kill her or you die” Will he allow his cold self be smitten by her infectious personality or end her life as he was ordered?

Arranged Marriage to the Playboy Heir

Two people with different agendas are forced into an arranged marriage. For Veronica Nicholas, it is to save her family's business that has been saddled with debt and on the verge of slipping into bankruptcy and for Lawrence Williams, it is to hold onto his inheritance as the only son and heir of a conglomerate family. Veronica could never leave her darling boyfriend for the infamous national playboy nor does Lawrence wish to leave her long time crush who finally accepted his feelings after many months of rejection for a stranger he barely knows. Together the two must sign a secret contract that lets them live their desired lives while being in their arranged marriage. But how long does the life they thought was best for them last? Stuck together, Veronica and Lawrence must find a way to work together to get past the struggles of their everyday lives from their never ending enemies. Hatred at first but being in the same place where they see all the good and bad sides of each other, how long would they go on before the wave of love hit them? Or would they find a reason to go their separate ways once their different agendas have been fulfilled?

No Longer Mrs. Cooley: The Architect's Return

I went to the City Clerk’s office for a routine copy of my marriage license to finalize a trust fund audit. I expected a simple piece of paper, but the clerk’s pitying look told me my entire life was a lie. "The license was never finalized, Ms. Oliver. In the eyes of the state, you are single." The three-hundred-guest wedding at the Plaza and the Vogue features meant nothing. My husband, Gray Cooley, had intentionally filed the documents with a "procedural defect" so he could discard me without a legal divorce. Moments later, an iCloud invite titled "Our Little Secret" popped up on my screen. It was a photo of my best friend, Brylee, holding a positive pregnancy test at our Hamptons estate. Gray’s text to her was the final blow: "Happy anniversary, babe. This baby is the best gift. Once the trust unlocks today, we’re done with the charade." I soon discovered they were even stealing my career, reassigning my architectural masterpiece to Brylee while preparing my eviction notice. Gray's mother called me a "barren mule" in a leaked recording, mocking the infertility I suffered after saving Gray’s life in a construction accident. I wasn't a wife; I was a three-year placeholder used to secure his inheritance. How could the man I bled for treat me like a disposable prop? How could my best friend carry his child while pretending to comfort me through my darkest moments? The betrayal burned until it turned into a cold, hard stone of fury. I didn't cry. Instead, I walked into the penthouse of the Barretts, the Cooleys' most powerful rivals. I signed a marriage contract with Kane Barrett, the man the tabloids called the "Beast of Wall Street." "I want a wedding," I told his father, my voice steady and lethal. "Bigger than the one I had with Gray." If they wanted me gone, they would have to watch me become the woman who owns their world.

The Scars She Hid From The World

The heavy iron gates of the Wilderness Correction Camp groaned as they released me after three years of state-sponsored hell. I stood on the dirt road, clutching a plastic bag that held my entire life, waiting for the family that claimed they sent me there for "rehab." My brother, Brady, picked me up in a luxury SUV only to throw me out onto a deserted highway in the middle of a brewing storm. He told me I was a "public relations nightmare" and that the rain might finally wash the "stink" of the camp off me. He drove away, leaving me to limp miles through the mud on a snapped ankle. When I finally dragged myself to our family estate, my mother didn't offer a hug; she gasped in horror because my muddy clothes were ruining her Italian marble. They didn't give me my old room back. Instead, they banished me to a moldy gardener’s shack and hired a "babysitter" to make sure I didn't embarrass them further. My sister, Kaleigh, stood there in white cashmere, pretending to cry while clinging to her fiancé, Ambrose—the man who had once been mine. They all treated me like a volatile junkie, refusing to acknowledge that Kaleigh was the one who planted the drugs in my bag three years ago. They wanted to believe I was broken so they wouldn't have to feel guilty about the "wellness retreat" that was actually a torture chamber. I sat in the dark of that shed, feeling the cooling gel on the cigarette burns that covered my arms, and realized they had made a fatal mistake. They thought they had erased me, but I had returned with a roadmap of scars and a hidden satellite phone. At dinner, I didn't beg for their love. I simply rolled up my sleeves and showed them the price of their silence. As the wine spilled and the lies crumbled, I sent a single text to the only person I trusted: "I'm in. Let them simmer." The hunt was finally on.

Abandoned Ex-Wife: Now Untouchable

My five-year-old daughter was dying in the ICU, her heartbeat replaced by the continuous, electronic scream of a flatline. I gripped her cold hand, my throat sealed shut by a terror so absolute I couldn't even cry out. I dialed my husband Grayson's private number, the one reserved only for me and his assistants. He declined the call instantly. A second later, a text buzzed against my palm: "In a meeting. Do not disturb. Stop calling." Five miles away, Grayson was at a luxury gala, adjusting his silk tie and laughing with Belle Escobar. He told her I was just being "dramatic" and using our daughter's "fever" as an excuse to avoid the event. He had no idea Effie's heart had already stopped. When I finally reached our penthouse, soaked from the rain and carrying Effie's small socks in a plastic bag, Grayson didn't even look at me. He snapped at me for ruining the hardwood floors and asked if I'd left Effie with the nanny just to "feel sorry for myself." Three days later, while I buried our daughter in a small, lonely ceremony, Grayson was at the Hamptons. Belle posted a photo of him golfing with the caption: "A mental health day with the boys." He didn't even attend the funeral, but he returned home demanding I clear out Effie's room to make a study for Belle's son. The injustice burned through me until there was nothing left. I swallowed a handful of sleeping pills, desperate to join my daughter. But instead of the darkness, I woke up to blinding lights and the scent of Grayson's expensive cologne. I was standing in a ballroom, wearing a blue silk dress I had already burned. Above me, a banner read: "Happy 5th Birthday Kaiden & Effie." I was back, exactly one year before the tragedy. This time, I wasn't going to be the grieving wife. I was going to be their worst nightmare.

He Chose First Love, I Chose the Alpha King

I gave him three years of silent devotion behind a mask I never wanted to wear. I made a wager for our bond-he paid me off like a mistress. "Chloe's back," Zane said coldly. "It's over." I laughed, poured wine on his face, and walked away from the only love I'd ever known. "What now?" my best friend asked. I smiled. "The real me returns." But fate wasn't finished yet. That same night, Caesar Conrad-the Alpha every wolf feared-opened his car door and whispered, "Get in." Our gazes collided. The bond awakened. No games. No pretending. Just raw, unstoppable power. "Don't regret this," he warned, lips brushing mine. But I didn't. Because the mate I'd been chasing never saw me. And the one who did? He's ready to burn the world for me.

I Hid His Heir from My Alpha

For two years, I was the Alpha's secret wife, a duty he resented. But the positive pregnancy test in my hand was a miracle, a blessing from the Moon Goddess. This baby, our heir, was supposed to be the bridge that finally mended our broken mate bond. That night, he left without a word. I saw on a gossip site that he'd gone to pick up his ex-lover, Isadora. Reaching for him through our bond, I wasn't met with his usual coldness, but with her emotions bleeding through him-triumph and smug possession. The next morning, I went to his office, ready to tell him about our baby, believing our child could fix us. But I stopped when I heard him talking to our Pack Healer about me. The healer said I looked fragile, that he should care for his mate. My husband laughed. "You seem to care for her more than I do," Demetri said, his voice dripping with ice. "Do you want me to give her to you? Take her. She's of no use to me." My world shattered. I wasn't just unloved; I was a thing to be discarded. I looked down at the pregnancy report, the proof of the life inside me, and made a vow. He would never know about our child, and I would sever our bond myself.

The Billionaire's Cold And Bitter Betrayal

I had just survived a private jet crash, my body a map of violet bruises and my lungs still burning from the smoke. I woke up in a sterile hospital room, gasping for my husband's name, only to realize I was completely alone. While I was bleeding in a ditch, my husband, Adam, was on the news smiling at a ribbon-cutting ceremony. When I tracked him down at the hospital's VIP wing, I didn't find a grieving husband. I found him tenderly cradling his ex-girlfriend, Casie, in his arms, his face lit with a protective warmth he had never shown me as he carried her into the maternity ward. The betrayal went deeper than I could have imagined. Adam admitted the affair started on our third anniversary-the night he claimed he was stuck in London for a merger. Back at the manor, his mother had already filled our planned nursery with pink boutique bags for Casie's "little princess." When I demanded a divorce, Adam didn't flinch. He sneered that I was "gutter trash" from a foster home and that I'd be begging on the streets within a week. To trap me, he froze my bank accounts, cancelled my flight, and even called the police to report me for "theft" of company property. I realized then that I wasn't his partner; I was a charity case he had plucked from obscurity to manage his life. To the Hortons, I was just a servant who happened to sleep in the master bedroom, a "resilient" woman meant to endure his abuse in silence while the whole world laughed at the joke that was my marriage. Adam thought stripping me of his money would make me crawl back to him. He was wrong. I walked into his executive suite during his biggest deal of the year and poured a mug of sludge over his original ten-million-dollar contracts. Then, right in front of his board and his mistress, I stripped off every designer thread he had ever paid for until I was standing in nothing but my own silk camisole. "You can keep the clothes, Adam. They're as hollow as you are." I grabbed my passport, turned my back on his billions, and walked out of that glass tower barefoot, bleeding, and finally free.