A Deadly Obsession

My sister wanted to make a quick buck selling herself on a cruise ship. I tried desperately to stop her, but my entire family held me down and drowned me in the ocean instead. When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the moment before she left. This time, I smiled while helping her with her makeup. "Let me send you off properly, sis." Later, her screams echoed through the nightmare aboard that ship. I stood safe in the arms of a mafia Don who held me close. "Figlia, your Papa finally found you." Meanwhile, my adoptive parents and sister were on their knees across the deck, begging me to spare their worthless lives.

“I want you, Lyra. Since the day I saw you at that bastard’s place, I’ve wanted you. It might have taken me a long time to realize it, but let me be a part of your life…” He struggled for a moment, “…and this baby. Our baby.” ************************************* Lyra Lockwood, former princess and the last of her kind, had unknowingly connived with her mate to kill her parents, only to end up rejected. Six years later, the Wolf King visits her pack, sees her, and demands she participate in his Luna choosing game—a game where one woman emerges as his Luna. But for years, all the women who participated have died. For years, rumors swirled that the Wolf King was the one killing them. For years, Raphael had not seen a woman like Lyra—someone who captured both him and his wolf from the moment they laid eyes on her. To Lyra, he was her master now, one she had to serve, just as she had served Edmund, her ex-mate. To Raphael, he wanted to know every inch of her—every scar, every line. Would Lyra accept him into her life after everything she’s been through? And could Raphael wait for her through it all? Find out.

The day I inherited Grandpa's "Peacemaker," I received a call from myself, ten years in the future. "Sienna, don't give that gun to Lorenzo." I obeyed without question. That night, forced to use his faulty Glock, Lorenzo was beaten into a vegetative state during a duel. Guilt nearly broke me, but my parents nursed me back to health. Or so I thought. "You idiot," my future self sneered. "It was a lie to get you on the operating table. They want your heart for your brother!" Finding a transplant agreement in my father's study, I publicly severed ties with the Morettis. Only later, after Lorenzo died from rejection, did I learn they just needed my rare blood, not my heart. I wanted to return and atone, but the phone rang again. "Your parents will kill you for honor. Don't go back." I waited. But instead of assassins, news arrived: the Morettis had been slaughtered by rivals. I bolted for home, only to be mowed down by a black sedan. As I died, I couldn't understand why my future self had orchestrated my end. Then I opened my eyes. I was back at the ceremony.

It was considered a curse in the werewolf world when a child was born with a black birthmark. Jennifer was one of those unfortunate wolves born with that mark. Her mother died as soon as she released her from her womb and officially displayed her as a cursed wolf. Her step-family abused her and forced her to serve the whole pack after her father’s death. She was sold off as a Luna to one of the most dread packs and made to marry an Alpha who got poisoned from war and became a vegetative werewolf, having only a few months left to live. Jennifer had to marry Alpha Raymond, who was known to be a ruthless and powerful wolf, one whom everyone was frightened of like death. 

"Honey, the washing machine's making that buzzing sound again. Can you fix it please?" I got up from my desk and walked over. Just as I placed my hand on the washing machine, a wave of numbness surged through my body. My heart pounded wildly before I convulsed and collapsed on the floor. Just before everything went dark, I heard my wife on the phone. "He has collapsed. He should be dead by now." The power outlet continued to hiss and buzz, like the mocking laughter of a devil. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day my wife asked me to fix the washing machine. I then decided to secretly follow her, only to discover she was posing as a topless model for her art teacher.

I was eight months pregnant, at a charity gala with my husband, Don Massimo, when a rival family hit us. The crowd panicked. I was shoved to the floor, hard. Blood everywhere. Massimo lost his mind, screaming for medics, desperate to save my baby. But when I woke up, they were gone. Both of them. No baby, no Massimo. I remembered the gunfire, Massimo shielding me with his body. A cold dread washed over me. I hauled myself into a wheelchair and raced down the hall. That’s when I heard them—Massimo and the doctor. "Boss, I'm sorry. We did everything we could. The baby… he didn't make it." Tears streamed down my face. They killed my baby. The rival family killed my baby. But his next words shattered my world. "There was only one medical team. I had to make a choice. Bianca… she was carrying my child, too." Massimo sighed, then gave the order. "No one tells Arabella. She'll raise Bianca's son as her own. He will be my only heir." I slapped a hand over my mouth, my vision blurred by tears as I turned away. The man I loved was a lie. Fine. If he wants a war, he'll get one.

My blood-bonded mate lied to me. He said our bond—a bond of centuries—was fading. It was all for his new lover, Josie. He wanted to let her play princess. He denied me my rightful place. I was walking down a hall lined with ancient tapestries when I heard Josie’s voice, sweet and laced with venom. “Darling, if you make me your princess, just for a little while, can you taste me every night? But… won’t that old relic Lydia get suspicious? Your bond has lasted three centuries, after all.” “What can she do? She can’t leave this castle, and she needs my blood to survive.” Milton’s voice dripped with contempt. “That fool, Lydia. I told her the bond was fading, and she actually believed our connection was broken. Even if she knew the truth, she’d just hand over the Eternal Chalice without a fight and go back to being a quiet little Dreamweaver. You’re the only princess in my heart, my little wildcat.” I froze. And I let him believe his lie was safe. Then, a pain sharp enough to kill a mortal ripped through my soul. The bond shattered. I turned and melted into the shadows. Let them think their little play is flawless. They’ll soon find out what this “fool” is truly capable of.

On Father's Day, I received a heartwarming gift. My one-year-old son called me Dad for the first time. But moments later, he convulsed, foamed at the mouth, and died before we could reach the hospital. My wife was shattered, and I was devastated. The doctors couldn't identify the cause of his death. Three years later, my wife emerged from her grief, and we welcomed our second child. But the moment this child called me Dad, they, too, died instantly. To spare her further pain, I suggested adoption. Yet, even our adopted children met the same fate. Unable to bear the losses, my wife divorced me. Everyone said I was cursed, never meant to be a father. Defiant, I remarried and had another child, vowing never to let them call me Dad. For years, we adhered to this rule. But when our daughter turned four, she came home from preschool, eager to celebrate Father's Day. Holding a card, she read aloud, "Dad."

I met Oleg in junior school, and we clicked right away. Despite our fathers being rival mafia bosses, we never fell apart. But my feelings for Oleg changed with age. I felt frightened because I was torn between the comforts of friendship and the thrill of something more. My dad was very homophobic, so it was even more difficult to express how I felt. I was faced with wanting to be truthful but endangering our families’ fragile peace So, my feelings stayed hidden, and I was just happy to be with Oleg. Yet I couldn’t help but hope that Oleg would feel the same. Perhaps he was too scared to say anything. That hint of hope was what gave me the courage to take action. And I did but things went terribly wrong. our worlds collided and exploded. It left us with nothing but hatred and resentment between our families. If I could turn back time, I would be content with the friendship we once shared, not the hurt and anger which we now have. We parted ways with hatred in our hearts,a wound that never healed,years later,our path crossed again......

My fiancée is a forensic doctor, and I'm a detective in the major crimes unit. I love her more than life itself, but she only cares about her first love. To help him wash his hands of a murder, she helps him deal with a corpse. What she doesn't know is that it's my corpse. When she learns the truth, she breaks down…