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"Do you think I will ever walk hand in hand with a girl three times my size? I only dated you because I wanted to know what it feels like, being with a plus size". That statement got her speechless,her heartbreaking so hard it hurts. "Look ,shit happens sometimes". "Tim.... it's... my first time". She sobbed loudly. "Get over it, not like I forced you to give me your virginity,I had to go, clean up the red stains before leaving". He snarled. Beauty's heart pounding, and her tears flow endlessly. He left and slammed the door after him. **** Bullied for being a plus size since her childhood. Beauty Hills had to deal with insecurity ,trauma and depression, most especially self hate. Her name( Beauty) was said to be the exact opposite of her appearance. After many failed toxic relationships, she moved on and got a job in a fashion company. There she had a one sided crush on her terribly handsome and reserved boss,but Who wouldn't! Not every day you get to see a terribly good looking billionaire who isn't arrogant or proud of his looks,a top green flag! Every single beauty queen in the company is head over heels! Beauty knows she got no chance to compete with them It's useless to dream that big! Maybe not...

“Let. Me. Go!” She said, trying to run away from the man who now had her cornered. A familiar scent filled her nostrils, but she could barely find it in her to speak let alone call for HIS help. “You are mine now,” he glared at her, his eyes filled with rage. Her heart raced, and she tried moving away from his tight grip as he wrapped his hand around her neck, choking her. “I will show you what it is to try and run away from your Alpha.” Her breathing ragged, and her eyes rolled to the back of her head before the man’s hand loosened around her neck. His green eyes met hers in the darkness, and it was seconds later before his tattooed arms wrapped around her, holding her to his chest. “And that is what you get for messing with my MATE, Stefano…” ********************************* What if everything was nothing more than a lie? What if what you know was not more than a game? What if what you held onto was the one thing that was to drop you? When Alpha Diego is given a task by his father, he is forced to play the ONE game he hates most. The game of love. And the one thing that makes it even worse is that he forced to play it against the one person that he is supposed to cherish. His mate, Lea Auditore…

"N...no y...you don't g..go. He will come. He will b...beat me. You also hide here. He is very bad. He beats. I'm s...scared of him. S...save me. He..." Biya screamed hysterically freeing her arms from his grip. She doesn't seem in right state of mind. "I'm r...running. You take me from here. He is very bad." Biya was freeing herself from his grasp and abruptly ran to the door. But in the next moment she was in Sikandar clutches. "Where are you running? Are you mad?" Sikandar roared shaking at her badly. But Biya wasn't in her senses. "No...he..you don't know him. He is very cruel...he..." Seeing her screaming like mad Sikandar has to again raise his hand and slapped her mercilessly. His hands left it's print on her cheek. With her hand on her cheek, Biya was looking at the man who slapped her. Deeply blinded by taking revenge of his past incident from the murderer of his childhood Sikandar Shah happen to kidnap the daughter of that man. He inflict his brutality on that innocent and sweet girl to the extent that he forcefully made her marry him and physically and mentally abuse and torture Biya. Will Biya survive the pain and brutally he is inflicting on her? Or will Sikandar Shah show some mercy for that little girl in lowering his assault and torture on her? How they will thrive in this unforseen situation?

"I can't be with you," he states, and I look up at him in outrage. "This isn't right." I take a step closer to him, pressing my body on his and feeling him responding with desire. "Look me in the eye and tell me that it feels wrong." He doesn't move. But he doesn't turn away either when I lift my hand to his chest, letting my hand trail down. "Don't," he warns, but I can only hear lust in his voice. "Dont' start a game that you can't finish." I don't listen. I let my touch speak for itself, to let it translate all the need I feel in my body right now. I go lower, much lower, until he finally snaps and grabs my face, devouring my lips and pressing me up against the wall. "You asked for this, and now I have to claim you." *** Astrid Marshall has always been infatuated with her best friend's dad, former Alpha Klaus Slate. At first she thought it's just a childish crush, but she later finds out that they're connected in ways that she can't comprehend. They're fated mates. He's the man of her desires, but she's his temptation, the woman he's forbidden to have.

After two years of marriage, I believed I was living the dream—until the day I gave birth to our long-awaited heir. The house was filled with joy as my husband's family arrived, bearing gifts and ready to bestow a name upon our child, as tradition dictated. But the happiness of the day shattered in an instant when my husband walked in, hand in hand with his childhood sweetheart. In front of everyone, he announced not only our divorce but also his engagement to her, as if I had never mattered. *** "I’m divorcing Stacy," Jason announces, his voice unwavering, "to marry Nicole Cruz, my childhood sweetheart." He points to the woman standing before him who smiles and waves at everyone in the room. My world tilts on its axis. The words echo in my mind, louder and louder until they drown out everything else. What is going on?? "But why?" I whisper, my voice barely audible, even to myself. I'm unable to believe his betrayal. Jason doesn’t even glance at the child in my arms. "Because this has been a long time coming, Stacy. I’ve only stayed this long out of obligation and not love." Important Author’s Note: This is a rewritten version of my book The Alpha’s Betrayal: Reclaiming His Rejected Luna. From Chapter 12 onward, the story takes a new turn with fresh twists and drama. Thank you for reading—I hope you enjoy this new version!

I spend three torturous years in a dark underground cell after taking the fall for Cole Greyhouse, a member of the nobility. He once held my hand tightly and tearfully promised that he would wait for me to return. Then, he would take my hand in marriage. However, he doesn't show up on the day I'm released from prison. I head to the palace to look for him, but all I see is him with his arm around another woman. He also has a mocking smile on his face. "Do you really think a former convict like you deserves to become a member of the royal family?" Only then do I understand that he's long since forgotten about the three years he was supposed to wait for me. I'm devastated, and my heart dies. I accept the marriage my family has arranged for me. On the big day, Cole crashes my wedding with his comrades and laughs raucously. "Are you that desperate to be my secret lover, Leah? How dare you put on a wedding gown meant for a royal bride to force me into marriage? You're pathetic!" Just then, his uncle, Fenryr Greyhouse, the youngest Alpha King in Lunholm's history, hurriedly arrives. He drapes a shawl around my shoulders and slides a wedding ring onto my finger. That's when Cole panics.

Everyone thought I was just an Omega clinging to Alpha Pheisar— gentle, silent, unworthy of love. In his eyes, I was nothing more than a burden the Moon Goddess tossed his way. But the moment he held Selene’s hand and vowed a mate-bond at the Moonlit Altar, I finally understood — I had never mattered. He never kept a promise, never cared about the wolf-soul I burned to keep him alive. So I rejected him. He thought I was being dramatic—until I bonded with the “comatose Alpha” everyone believed would never wake. When he knelt at my ceremony and roared “I only want you,” I simply replied: “Too late.” What they never knew was this— I was never a vine to be pulled or broken. I can stitch a wedding gown with devotion, and cut off a rotting love just as cleanly. I can be soft— and I can be resolute. The day I married Alpha Zander, no one expected him to wake—much less fall for me. But the first time I whispered “Mate” in his arms, the ice around him melted into pure devotion. And in the quiet dark, his hand firm on my waist, he murmured: “Pheisar is downstairs begging again…I’m feeling jealous. You’ll have to make it up to me.” This time— Pheisar will learn what kind of treasure he threw away. And Zander will know the partner in his hands is worth a lifetime of love.

I dated my younger brother’s best friend, Dylan Lane, for three years. More than once, he told me how much he loathed arranged marriages and how he hated being chained by family interests. However, one night, after another bout of indulgence, he wrapped his arms around me and begged me sweetly to design a wedding ring for his fiancée—someone he had never even met. The smile froze on my face, yet he just said indifferently, “Aren’t people like us all destined to marry for our families' benefit?” Seeing the blood drain from my face, he even chuckled. “Vee, don’t you tell me you're still as naïve as a 20-year-old girl, thinking I would ever marry you? At most, we're just… pillow friends." Later, I agreed to the marriage my family had arranged for me. Dylan showed up on my wedding day, disheveled and red-eyed. He fell to his knees and begged me not to leave. I stood beside my new husband, hand in hand, and smiled faintly as I chuckled. “Didn’t you say people like us were born for arranged marriages? I’m simply doing what you always wanted me to do. Shouldn’t you be happy?”

Three years after our breakup, I ran into my ex-girlfriend, and she had her new boyfriend by her side. "Hey, isn't that Henry the expert?" Diego Stanley taunted with a smirk. "Three years post-breakup, and you're slumming it here playing with clay?" I furrowed my brow, ignored them, and carefully moved the Victorian-era porcelain musician figurine onto its preset base in the display case. When I wasn't biting, he reached out to grab the figurine from my arms. "What's this junk you're treating like gold? Let me take a look." Cynthia Wyatt frowned, her voice laced with that familiar arrogance. "Henry, I've given you three years to shape up, and you're still the same loser? Come on, hand over that clay doll to Diego. Don't kill the vibe. If you play nice, I might even reconsider our old engagement." As Diego's hand neared the figurine, I dodged quickly and barked, "Hands off! It's a historical artifact!" Diego got pissed off and shoved me hard. "Some flea market find, and you're acting all high and mighty?" In the ensuing scuffle, I lost my balance, and the figurine slipped from my grasp, crashing to the floor. That sealed their fate. This entitled pair was about to go bankrupt trying to fix it.

I set fire to my painting in front of the entire academy. Thunderous applause erupts from the crowd as everyone thinks it's some kind of performance art. Unlike them, Willow Laurent is distraught. She rushes up and grabs my hand, questioning in a shrill voice, "Cassidy Seymour, have you gone mad? This is your only chance to prove yourself!" I shake her hand off me coldly. My only chance? No… What she means is that it's her chance. In my past life, I created this masterpiece with all my heart and soul. But she stole it from me and submitted it as her entry first. Whether it was the composition, the colors, or even my original dot-stippling technique… She replicated every detail flawlessly. Then, she won the National Young Artists Gold Award, signed with a top gallery, and became a rising star. And what about me? I was condemned as a shameless plagiarist. Insults and curses gradually drowned me. "You shouldn't be an artist!" "Plagiarists are scum! They should just die!" Her fans stormed into my studio, smashed my art supplies, and broke my right hand. As I saw no end to the hell that I was living in, I jumped down from the top floor of my studio. When I open my eyes again, I'm back to the very day she first accuses me of plagiarism.