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One mate was supposed to be a blessing. But three mates was a problem. Three identical Alphas was complete and utter chaos. Celine has spent her whole life being told she's too broken, too wolfless, too unwanted to ever be chosen. So when fate drops not one but three devastatingly handsome triplet Alphas at her feet, each one more dangerous to her sanity than the last, she does the only logical thing. She runs. But you can't outrun a mate bond. Especially not three of them. One will take her apart gently. One will take her apart with his words alone. One won't touch her at all — yet, and somehow the last one scares her the most. They turned her world upside down, exposed her to a world she had only imagined, and filled every fantasy she had ever dared to dream. Embark on this journey with Celine and watch how fate turned everything around.

I don't know what to think. I don't know what this feeling is all about. Is this normal? Definitely not. Not only was he in his thirties while I was just 19, but we were also never meant to fall in love because he was my teacher. There is no way.... What is wrong with my heart? Oh God. I think I am in love with my math teacher." My hand pushed against his chest as I took a step back. "Please, I can't breathe with you so close.. "You think I can?" He snapped, gripping my wrist and hauling me to himself. "You think it's been easy for me to stand in front of the class, avoiding your eyes and trying to keep myself from thinking about you while teaching." My eyes widened and my jaw dropped. Was he also in love with me? Did that one-night stand mean something to him too? I thought I was just like other students to him. ***** Diane's heart was shattered when she found out her boyfriend didn't love her and was only using her to win a dare game. To clear her head, she ended up having a one-night stand with a strange man only to find out the following week that he was the new math professor, Leo. Diane thought she had pushed him off her head, but seeing him again sparked up the feelings she never knew existed inside her. It was forbidden, enough scandal to destroy his career, but he couldn't let go; neither could she. What happens when she find out his secret identity and realized he was part of a deadly Mafia organization that she should have never meet in the first place.

On the day of the state-wide exam, the Johanson family's real daughter accused me of cheating. Two perfect-score papers lay side by side, identical in every detail. No matter how I argued, I could not clear my name. Everyone sided with her. They branded me a cheater and cast me out of the Johanson family in front of everyone. To appease her, the Johansons went even further. They used their influence to blacklist me across every industry within their reach. I ended up sleeping on the streets. One hardship followed another until my thoughts dulled and a car struck me with such force that it sent me airborne. Even at the end, one question haunted me: "Why did my paper match hers?" Then I opened my eyes and found myself back in the exam room. This time, I turned in a blank sheet. I wanted to see for myself how someone who scored zero could possibly copy anyone.

I have always had an almost pathological sense of paranoia. Ever since I was a child, I was convinced that the people around me were out to get me. Back in elementary school, when everyone was lining up for their student ID photos, I flatly refused to have mine taken. I insisted that the district office was going to use my picture for identity theft. The situation escalated so badly that the principal had to personally sit me down and spend half an hour trying to convince me otherwise. Then, there was the fingerprint registration system in middle school. The school required every student to submit their fingerprints to access the campus buildings. I was so terrified that someone would steal my biometric data that I literally rubbed the skin off all ten fingertips to make them unreadable. Even when my fingers were bleeding, I kept shouting that they were trying to steal my identity. I would rather climb over the school fence every day than cooperate. Every relative I had called me crazy. My parents were so fed up that they seriously considered having me admitted to a psychiatric hospital. I did not care. I guarded my privacy with obsessive determination, gritting my teeth and holding my ground all the way up to the eve of the final exams. Then came the day before the exam. That afternoon, our homeroom teacher, Tracy Collins, walked into the classroom carrying a metal lockbox. A warm, motherly smile spread across her face as she set it down on the desk. "Everyone," she said, "to make sure nobody forgets their documents tomorrow, I'd like you to hand over your IDs and exam admission slips for safekeeping tonight." She patted the lockbox reassuringly. "Tomorrow morning, I'll personally return them to each of you outside the testing center. This way, there's absolutely nothing that can go wrong." The class was deeply moved by her thoughtfulness. Some students even looked close to tears as they eagerly pulled out their documents and lined up to hand them over. Everyone except me. My hand clamped down over my pocket so tightly that my knuckles turned white. Cold sweat poured down my back. A sharp alarm bell was ringing in my head. Trying not to attract attention, I fished out a spare flip phone from my bag, ducked beneath my desk, and dialed emergency services. As soon as the call connected, I lowered my voice and spoke into the receiver. "Hello. I'd like to report a crime. My name is Charles. "I believe a teacher at St. Alden High is working with an identity-fraud ring and is planning a large-scale operation tonight involving examination fraud and identity theft."

After I secured early admission to one of the country's most prestigious universities, my old high school invited me back to sit for the State Scholars Exam and compete for the top statewide score. But just ten minutes into the math paper, the proctor out of nowhere accused me of cheating. "Everyone else starts with the multiple-choice section. You went straight for the proofs. Were you planning to copy someone else's answers later?" Before I could explain a single word, he dragged me into the boys' restroom. Not only was I humiliated and forced to strip, I also had to let him inspect me over and over again to confirm that I had no cheating devices on my body. After I returned to the exam room, I decided it was better not to cause more trouble, so I started from the multiple-choice section like everyone else. But less than five minutes after I sat down, he yanked me up again. "This is even more fake. You didn't even take time to read or think through the questions before writing down the options. If that isn't cheating, what is?" "I suspect you knew the answers in advance. I'm reporting this to the exam board right now and having your exam qualification revoked!"