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She died on the night of her anniversary. Now she’s back. She has one year to destroy everyone who killed her. Jade spent her life begging for love from her family, her best friend, and the man she married. Instead, they poisoned her. They faked her illness. They stole her future. And they waited for her to die so they could claim her secret trust fund. But fate makes a mistake. Jade wakes up at the altar. This time, she walks away. Desperate to protect herself from the people plotting her death, Jade proposes a contract marriage to the mysterious Zayn Hemsworth. He agrees to her contract marriage with one condition—no questions. But Jade doesn’t know the truth. Zayn has been watching her for years. Long before she ever noticed him. And he’s already broken the most important rule: He’s falling for her. Now Jade has 365 days to stop her murder and expose every betrayal. But revenge doesn’t come easy. As secrets begin to surface and enemies close in, Jade realizes something terrifying: She didn’t just marry a stranger. She may have married the devil. And this time… love might be the most dangerous trap of all. How will she survive him without burning? Content Warning: This story contains: • explicit sexual scenes • toxic relationships • emotional manipulation • violence • betrayal • morally gray characters Some scenes may be triggering for certain readers. Please read with caution.

After my song was cut short at karaoke, I found myself back at the song selection machine. I just had to wait for 28 more songs until it would finally be my turn again. The next song was called "The Answer". My boyfriend, John Aldama, and my best friend, Selena Summers, gave each other a look of mild disdain but decided to sing the duet to prevent an awkward silence. Their voices, one cool and one sweet, complemented each other perfectly. Ever since high school, they'd been neck and neck on the honor roll, always vying for first and second place. Even after joining a top-tier company, they'd constantly bicker over projects. Even years after graduation, the people in our high school group chat were still "shipping" their "love-hate dynamic". No matter how hard I tried, I always remained the forgotten third person, an overlooked backdrop. Listening to them sing, I suddenly felt so tired. I no longer felt like singing the song that I had to wait endlessly for. I quietly deleted the song I'd selected and sent a confirmation to the email that asked me to be relocated abroad for work.

His songs were better when he had a broken heart. That sentence would change my life after my dream job was dished to me on a shiny, silver platter. All I had to do? Hurt Nash Pierce enough to get him writing good music again. The pop icon’s songs were no longer the phenomena they used to be. His team needed another breakthrough album—like the first he’d penned, using his heartbreak as fuel. The plan was simple: I’d go on tour with him as a backup dancer…and make him fall in love with me. I was hired to inspire—to become embedded into every lyric he wrote. Then, I was to set fire to it all—to destroy every feeling we hoped he’d develop for me. It seemed simple enough. Easy, even. I didn’t expect to be consumed myself—to see so much in the man displayed in the tabloids. I didn’t foresee falling for him. It didn’t occur to me that, while attempting to break his heart, I might just shatter my own. Most of all, I never thought I’d fight so hard to hold on to a relationship that had always been founded on goodbye.

This is not a simple love story. This is a collection of hidden desires, forbidden attractions, and dangerous temptations. Welcome to Sweet Rush. The secret platform where women anonymously share their most intimate confessions. They don’t know who is reading their deepest secrets. Each story pulls you into moments of intense tension and overwhelming passion. Moments where the heart races, boundaries blur, and what should never happen feels impossible to resist. From stolen glances that turn into something more… To the thrill of crossing lines that can change everything… Guilt and desire collide in ways that leave them forever changed. If you crave stories of irresistible temptation and hidden passion, then step into Sweet Rush. Be careful what you wish for.

They say fire is cleansing, a transformative type of destruction. After a forest fire, nature heals and grows stronger. It's forever changed but not destroyed. Fire is painful but beautiful, something that is warm but left unattended can be devastating. In the flames I was broken, destroyed, but in the ashes I was restored. Left floating in the grey, the smoke that led me through a divine transformation. Now I'm left adrift, the dark my only guide in the smoke, the blue of the sky, of his eyes, the only guide in the light. Forever torn and pulled between the two, unsure who I can trust and terrified to make the wrong choice. Not just my life hangs in the balance, but the lives and well being of all of humanity. It just might be too much for these wings to bare.

> “Stay still, Little Thorn… I want to taste you slowly.” His voice was velvet and ruin. His mouth, a weapon. And I—fool that I was—leaned closer. Before death wore a suit and called itself a lover, I used to believe in beauty. Before the blood. Before the runes. Before I painted the image that killed my parents—I believed my art could save me. Now I know better. I was just weeks from graduating when the painting came to me like a fever. I didn’t choose it. I didn’t plan it. My hands moved, possessed, dragging symbols I’d never seen and a face I’d never forgotten—his. Eyes red as wine. A crown pierced with thorns. And a girl in the center… me. Offering herself. I signed it with a mark I didn’t recognize. I sold it to a stranger. And days later, my parents were dead—no wounds, no reason, just... gone. The police said stress. I say fate. Now I’m being hunted by a world I didn’t know existed. Vampires with ancient courts and older grudges. Symbols that whisper in my blood. And Lucien D’Aragon—the vampire who says I summoned him with my brushstroke. That I belong to him. He says I’m his prophecy. His ruin. His Little Thorn. But I’m not just prey. Something is waking in me. Something hungry. Something I was never meant to survive. If I give in, I lose everything. If I fight, I might finally learn the truth. About my art. About my bloodline. About what really happened that night. And why he keeps whispering that I was painted for ruin... but made for him.