Annie Duke Quit

Lara Dela Cruz was a normal girl—well, normal in the sense that she was an overworked call center agent who hated her boss, loved iced coffee, and had mastered the art of sarcasm to survive the horrors of capitalism. But one night, while rushing home, she slipped on a puddle (thanks to her horrible luck) and hit her head hard on the pavement. When she woke up… she wasn’t in her world anymore. Instead, she found herself in a medieval kingdom, in the middle of a chaotic slave auction. And before she could even scream in protest, she was bought by the most feared man in the entire empire—Duke Alistair Von Nacht, also known as the Tyrant Duke. Now, instead of dealing with rude customers, she had to deal with an emotionally constipated warlord who could kill her with a flick of his fingers. But what’s worse? She might be falling for the grumpy tyrant.

Eric Bleu, the powerful Alpha of Bleu Brooks Pack and a billionaire doctor, has everything—except love. After his mate Jesse left him, he swore off romance, dedicating his life to his daughter, Harley. But when Harley’s kindergarten event requires both parents, Eric is forced to find someone to play the role of "Mom" for a day. Enter Annie Macaulay—a quiet bakery worker with a mysterious past. Desperate to convince her brother that she has a real boyfriend, she accepts Eric’s offer. What starts as a simple act turns into something much more dangerous as secrets unravel. Unknown to Eric, Annie is not just an ordinary woman—she is Lady Lilly, a notorious assassin wanted by the CIA. And unknown to Annie, her beloved brother, Jaime, is the very agent hunting her. As tangled lies begin to unravel, hearts break, trust shatters, and enemies close in. Can love survive when everything between them is built on deception? Or will their fated bond crumble under the weight of the truth?

When my best friend died, his wife, Mia Lewis, was eight months pregnant. Mia said she didn't want her baby growing up without a father. I owed my best friend my life. He saved me, literally pulled me from death's door. So I stepped up, marrying Mia and raising their son as my own. Mia loved her career, so I quit mine. Traded my job for diapers and school runs. For seven whole years, I cooked, cleaned, folded laundry, and handled the housework. Rain or shine, sickness or health, I was there—every single day. Mia, though? She stayed cold, distant. Her warmth only surfaced in the bedroom—and even then, it was a flicker, never a flame. Just soft sighs and breathy murmurs, like she was playing a role she couldn't wait to finish. Afterward, she would quietly check the condom, as if she couldn't trust me. Then came New Year's Eve. A snap. A tear. A broken condom. Her fury struck like a thunderclap. She locked me out on the balcony, left me standing in the freezing rain, soaked to the bone as the wind howled like a wounded beast. Teeth chattering, I shivered as I watched the door like a dog, waiting to be let in. Then I saw him. Our boy, Ethan Bailey. Six years old. My son, at least in name. He came running with an umbrella in his hand. For a second, my heart leapt. 'Maybe, just maybe…' But he didn't even look at me. Just walked past in silence and handed the umbrella to the nanny heading out. Right then and there, something inside me cracked. I knew it was time to go.