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My husband's childhood sweetheart needed surgery, and he insisted that I be the one to operate on her. I followed every medical protocol, doing everything I could to save her. However, after she was discharged, she accused me of medical malpractice and claimed I’d left her permanently disabled. I turned to my husband, hoping he’d speak up for me, but he curtly said, “I told you not to act recklessly. Now look what’s happened.” To my shock, the hospital surveillance footage also showed that I hadn’t followed the correct surgical procedure. I couldn’t defend myself. In the end, I was stabbed to death by her super-alpha husband. Even as I died, I still couldn’t understand—how did the footage show my surgical steps were wrong? When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day Joanna was admitted for testing.

I ordered an incubus online, but when the package arrived, there were two of them. One was gentle and obedient, the other was hot-tempered and unpredictable. I immediately messaged customer service to ask if they'd sent the wrong one—I had only ordered the gentle kind. The reply came cheerfully. "Congratulations, you've unlocked the hidden variant! This model is a bit special—buy one, get one free!" Wait… what? I remembered hearing people say that raising an incubus is like raising a puppy, only better—they keep you warm at night and don't shed. Well, if that's true, whether I had one or two made no difference. So I ended up paying the price of one and getting two—what a steal! Or so I thought… until I went to feed them. That's when I realized I was the cookie in the middle of a sandwich. Apparently, "keeping me warm at night" was a strenuous activity.

There isn't any cure for migraines. But my billionaire wife, Ashley Weston, has not had a single migraine for years thanks to my daily massage with both hands. On the day I get into a car accident, I beg a passerby to call her to save me. She replies impatiently, "So you're resorting to such shameless tricks just because I won't answer your calls?" Through the phone comes the mocking laughter of her childhood friend, Jordan Hanson. My right hand is permanently fractured, and my left hand suffers from muscle weakness after the accident. A lawyer helps me draft a divorce agreement. With much difficulty, I sign it and send it to Ashley. On the day her head throbs with unbearable pain, she looks at my drooping hands and remains silent for a long time.

A deal between families forced my Fiancé Marco Corvini to marry me. My parents were dead. His obsession was Isabella Falcone, the princess of our rivals. In the end, Marco devoured my family’s empire and threw me to the wolves. He paraded Isabella on his arm like a prize he’d won. Twenty years later, I was on my deathbed. My own son—our son—held the poison. He said I was useless, that his father needed the Falcone family’s power. Then I opened my eyes. I was back. Back on the day of my blood oath. This time, to save my family, I didn’t sign my name on the pact. I signed hers. Isabella Falcone’s. As for me? I took the fortune my parents left me and disappeared. This time, I wouldn’t be the fool bleeding for a man who was never mine.

After confirming I was pregnant, I suddenly heard my husband’s inner voice. “This idiot is still gloating over her pregnancy. She doesn’t even know we switched out her IVF embryo. She’s nothing more than a surrogate for Elle. If Elle weren’t worried about how childbirth might endanger her life, I would’ve kicked this worthless woman out already. Just looking at her makes me sick. “Once she delivers the baby, I’ll make sure she never gets up from the operating table. Then I’ll finally marry Elle, my one true love.” My entire body went rigid. I clenched the IVF test report in my hands and looked straight at my husband. He gazed back at me with gentle eyes. “I’ll take care of you and the baby for the next few months, honey.” However, right then, his inner voice struck again. “I’ll lock that woman in a cage like a dog. I’d like to see her escape!” Shock and heartbreak crashed over me all at once because the Elle he spoke of was none other than my sister.

A Twisted Dark Romance | Urban College Drama | Erotic Coming-of-Age Story. 18+ Read this book to see how Quin went from watching her roommates make out to partaking in all forms of forbidden and dark sex because she just wants to get laid. Her hand gripped the doorknob so tightly her knuckles turned white. Quin knew she should leave. She should back out into the hallway and pretend she had forgotten her key, anything to erase the image of Mara’s head thrown back in ecstasy, her mouth open in a silent scream as Jade’s tongue worked her over or the sight of Marcus’s rod. But her feet were rooted to the spot. A heat, unfamiliar and intense, bloomed in her lower belly. She had read about this, but seeing it, the wet, slick sounds of Jade’s mouth, and the way Mara’s fingers clawed at the sheets and the way Marcus dick stood erect, was something else entirely. Then, Mara’s eyes snapped open. They locked onto Quin standing in the doorway. There was no shame in that gaze, only a dark, heavy-lidded amusement. "Well, well," Mara gasped, her voice breathless and ragged. She didn't push Jade away; instead, she tangled a hand in the brunette's dark hair, pressing her face harder against her cunt. "Look what the cat dragged in." "Quin," Jade purred, crawling up Mara’s body to nuzzle at her neck. "We were just talking about you. wondering if you’d ever get that stick out of your ass and join the real world." she glanced at Marcus too who nodded his head. Quin’s heart hammered against her ribs like a trapped bird. "I... didn't mean to interrupt. I'll go." Ohhh, she didn’t go, she joined in and got initiated into dark sex.