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“Give it” I ordered, gesturing to my mask and lingerie. “Give them to me.” Something playful trotted in his eyes. “Take them” he toyed. I lunged in, and he leaned back, shifting to the side until I collapsed first against the cotton sheets. I turned to look at him, and he towered on top of me, looking down in a way that rolled spikes over my flesh. I could feel the heat from his body, and as if he noticed, he leaned closer. Until his breath steadied over my neck. “Max—” “What?” He said it so innocently. Like he didn't know what he was going. Like he… “You're the one holding my shirt.” I suddenly noticed the silk feel to my hand. My fingers already starting to mindlessly wander over his buttons. Let go. Let go Bianca! Why won't I let go?! “Does that mean I have permission to this?” *** To make earns meet, a struggling college student creates an OnlyFans page with a hidden identity. Her secret pays the bills, keeps her in school, and protects the quiet, invisible life she’s built. Until one message ruins everything. “Hi, Bianca.” Someone knows who she is, behind the mask… and he wants to meet. The culprit, a man that belongs to her best friend. A longing that should be off limits… until it isn't. Caught between a darkness deeper than her wildest imaginations, a desire stronger than the control that slowly slips away, and a truth that could destroy her reputation, Bianca is forced into a dangerous game of control and temptation. Where saying no is never simple, and saying yes could cost her everything.

Five years of loyalty. Five years of managing his crises, protecting his name, asking for nothing. On their anniversary, Dominic walked a red carpet with another woman and a son Mara never knew existed. By morning, there was a settlement document beside her plate. They assumed she would sign quietly. They had never been paying attention. She was never the placeholder. She was the asset.

I marry Mason Longbright, my savior, at 24. For five years, Mason's erectile dysfunction and bipolar disorder keep us from ever sleeping together. He can't satisfy me when I want him, so he uses toys on me instead. But during his manic episodes, his touch turns into torment, leaving me bruised and broken. On my birthday night, I catch Mason in bed with another woman. Skin against skin, Mason drives into Amy Becker with a rough, ravenous urgency, his desire consuming her like a starving beast. Our friends and family are shocked, but no one is more devastated than I am. And when Mason keeps choosing Amy over me at home, I finally decide to let him go. I always thought his condition kept him from loving me, but it turns out he simply can't get it up with me at all. I book a plane ticket and instruct my lawyer to deliver the divorce papers. I am determined to leave him. To my surprise, Mason comes looking for me and falls to his knees, begging for forgiveness. But this time, I choose to treat myself better.

What? is a mystery story that will leave the readers question what exactly is going on with our main character. The setting is based on the islands of the Philippines. Vladimir is an established business man but is very spontaneous and outgoing. One morning, he woke up in an unfamiliar place with people whom he apparently met the night before with no recollection of who he is and how he got there. He was in an island resort owned by Noah, I hot entrepreneur who is willing to take care of him and give him shelter until he regains his memory. Meanwhile, back in the mainland, Vladimir is allegedly reported missing by his family and led by his husband, Andrew and his friend Davin and Victor. Vladimir's loved ones are on a mission to find him in anyway possible. Will Vlad regain his memory while on Noah's Island? Will Andrew find any leads on how to find Vladimir?

I’d been married to my husband James for three years. On Valentine’s Day, he gave his stepsister, Mia, one hundred and eighty thousand dollars, along with millions in jewelry. I, on the other hand, received a free bouquet of roses. When I didn’t look thrilled, he accused me of being a gold digger. “Mia never had anyone to care for her growing up. Why are you competing with her? Isn’t being Mrs. Smith enough to feed your vanity?” Furious, I stormed out of the house. When a car lost control and came barreling toward me, he instinctively rushed to protect Mia, who was standing a full ten feet from the road. I was the one who ended up in the hospital. Lying in that bed, I finally gave up. I signed the divorce papers without hesitation. “Giving up the title of Mrs. Smith is the dumbest decision you’ll ever make,” he told me, looking down at me from above before walking away. Seven years later, we met again. He took one glance at my simple dress and laughed out loud. I didn’t bother to respond. I just held my daughter close and waited for her father—the richest man in the city—to arrive.

At a dinner party, my genius painter of a husband, Henry Shepherd, used his hands, hands insured for millions, to shell crabs for his young assistant, Tamara Lee. This was all to coax her into eating a few bites when she claimed she had no appetite. Meanwhile, I drank myself into a bloody mess, trying to secure investments for him. When I asked him to hand me some antacids, he refused without even looking up. “These hands are for painting. Use your own.” For ten years, he couldn’t even be bothered to change the way he treated me. That night, as I sobered up in the cold wind, I asked my lawyer to draft a divorce agreement. "Henry, in this vast, chaotic world, our paths end here," I said inwardly