Bond

When brilliant New York attorney Alex Cromwell is sent to Chicago to find a billionaire’s missing daughter, it’s supposed to be purely business and not personal. His mission is to bring her home and save his father’s collapsing law firm. But Lily Smith isn’t missing. She’s building a new life far from the man who once tried to control her. Smart, guarded, and determined, she wants nothing more than to forget her past until Alex walks in, with a goal to send her back to the past she’s tried to avoid. What begins as obligation soon becomes something neither expected; quiet laughter, late-night talks, and a connection that feels dangerously real. Yet when the truth surfaces that Alex was sent by her father love turns to betrayal. Torn between redemption and heartbreak, Alex returns home to face his failure. Until one day, Lily walks into his office, ready to forgive, ready to begin again. Because sometimes love beats betrayal And the hardest cases are the ones the heart must win.

"On your knees, baby girl." I looked up at him, lips parted. "You gonna punish me for wanting you?" His smirk was pure sin. "No, sweetheart. I'm gonna make you beg for more." ** He's the one man I was never supposed to touch. My father's best friend. Older. Ruthless. Filthy rich. Damian Wolfe owns half the city-and every filthy thought in my head. He's dangerous the way powerful men are: Quiet, controlled, and used to getting exactly what he wants. One night. One mistake. Now he's in my head, under my skin, and between my legs. He says I'm too young. Too off-limits. But his hands say otherwise. So does his moans. I was supposed to be a good girl. Now I'm the obsession he won't let go of. And the sin he won't stop tasting.

To help my sterile Alpha mate Marcus Blackwood conceive an heir, I had used many hormone injections. My belly was covered with purple bruise marks from all the needle punctures. But after our son Connor was born, he was very weak and even ran much slower than the other pups. Marcus looked at Conner coldly and snarled at me, "It's all your rotten bloodline! You've brought shame to the Blackwood pack!" Later, he held his mistress Scarlett's pup—a three-year-old pup who was strong enough to beat an eight-year-old pup—and publicly rewarded Scarlett with a new Porsche. But when my five-year-old Connor accidentally knocked over his milk, Marcus kicked him in the chest and called him worthless. He even locked my son, who was afraid of the dark, alone in the drafty woodshed at the countryside estate during winter. Every day, Connor got only one bowl of spoiled food, until he starved to death. When I found Connor, his small body was already ice-cold, still clutching the family portrait I had drawn for him in his little hands. After that, Marcus tortured me to death. When I opened my eyes again, I was back at our engagement party. Marcus publicly took Scarlett's hand in front of everyone. "I’m breaking off my engagement with Hazel Whitmore! She is just a foolish she-wolf who can only birth idiots! Scarlett is the one I love!" I realized that he was also reborn. He wanted to humiliate me in front of everyone again. But he didn't know that without my exclusive genetic healing technology, he would remain childless for this entire lifetime.

Jericho is an accomplished operative working for a clandestine organization. Living a modest life in Iowa, he is drawn to Charlotte and pulled into the web of her own secrets. The realization that he could love her forever creates a dilemma. Does he love her or does he let her go. He lives in a dangerous world, one where death is the only escape. When a hit goes wrong, his client puts a price on his head and Jericho has to go underground. He leaves his life behind without thinking twice and also the woman he loves. He vanishes into thin air and starts hunting those sent to kill him. When Charlotte awakens his dormant memories, he realizes the truth. He is a descendant from a long line of people who shift into wolves. On the day he is meant to die, Kiran Sinclair saves him and he wakes up in Seward, Alaska. With his wolf abilities no longer dormant, Jericho knows that the Director will stop at nothing to destroy his entire family and Jericho takes the fight to him. His tale is a compelling blend of intrigue, romance, and remorse.

“Let me be your real wife for just one month, Daven.” It was a simple request—one that sounded like the last plea of a heartbroken woman. But to Althea Grayson, it was her pride. The price she asked for the love she had given, yet never once received in return. She had known from the start: their marriage was never about love. Daven Callister had married her out of duty, pressured by his grandmother. There were no tender embraces, no loving glances—only cold silence and an empty house that never felt like home. Still, Althea held on. She tried to be a good wife, clinging to the hope that one day, Daven’s heart might soften. But her hope was shattered by betrayal—Daven wanted to marry someone else. The woman he truly loved. With or without Althea’s consent. And his entire family stood behind his decision. Heartbroken and disillusioned, Althea made one final request: one month of being loved like a real wife. One month... before she walked away forever. Daven thought it was a desperate move—pathetic, even. But that single month changed everything. The way Althea smiled, the way she loved so fully. Even the way she left—left something behind that lingered in Daven’s heart. And now, Daven was lost. When the love he had never once recognized finally revealed itself... was it already too late? Or should he fight against everything—just for one more chance?

“Camille, I’ll love you forever!” Jameson let out a low, agonized growl. Just as he was about to climax, his phone suddenly began to buzz. He ignored it, of course. Now was hardly the time. However, his phone lit up again. The moment he saw the text on the screen, his body froze. Camille heard him answer the call. “Hello?” In the deep silence of the night, the voice on the phone cut through the stillness, clear and unmistakable. “Jameson, did you know that Sylvia—” Jameson switched languages and cut in with a sharp command, “Keep it down. It's not a good time.” The other person switched languages too, though he was still loud. “The hospital results came in. Sylvia is in the final stages of cancer. She only has a month left! Her last wish is to become your wife. Can you grant her that before she passes?” Jameson’s expression changed immediately. “What?! Wait for me!” He ended the call and turned to Camille. “Camille, something urgent came up. I need to step out for a bit. Be good and stay home. I’ll be back after you’ve had some sleep.” Before she could respond, he rose to wash up, changed his clothes, and left without looking back. Moments later, her phone buzzed. Sylvia: [Camille, you lost. I told you—Jameson has always been mine.] Right above it was a message from three days ago: [If I tell him I have cancer, do you think Jameson will leave you and come to me? I bet he will.] Camille’s gaze slowly shifted from her phone screen to the open bedroom door. What Jameson did not know was that she had already picked up a new language. She understood every word of that call. After a long moment, a faint, bitter smile appeared on her face. “Yeah, I lost...”

In my parents' hearts, there was always a "perfect son" who died too soon. I was just his flawed substitute, while my younger brother was their new hope. They pretended to be poor for 20 years, secretly funneling all their resources to him. While I was in the final stages of stomach cancer, writhing in pain, they were spending millions of dollars to build him a state-of-the-art study room. When the doctor told me to notify my family about hospital bills, I felt helpless, thinking they were just ordinary, broke workers. When my mom finally showed up at the hospital, she grabbed my hand, not out of concern. "Neville is under so much stress with his college entrance exams. Can you not die right now? He can't take it." My dad stood by, wearing a stern expression. "David was way more sensible than you."

Emilia Clark, a young woman struggling with mounting family debts, responds to a mysterious job posting that arrived unexpectedly in her email. When she arrives at the upscale office for what she assumes is a standard interview, she discovers she's the sole candidate for an unusual position that wasn't clearly described in the original correspondence. The role, as revealed by the formidable Mrs. Grey—matriarch of a wealthy and traditional family—is that of a surrogate mother. The Greys are offering an extraordinarily large sum of money for Emilia to carry a child for their family, with the biological father being Mrs. Grey's son. The older woman presents this as a business transaction, delivered with cold efficiency and an underlying air of entitlement that comes with generations of wealth and influence. Mrs. Grey makes it clear that this is a one-time offer with no room for negotiation or delay—Emilia must accept immediately or leave and never return. There will be no second chances, no time to consider, and no opportunity to ask questions or seek advice. Caught completely off guard, Emilia finds herself in an impossible position. The money would solve her family's financial crisis and lift a burden that has been consuming her life. Yet the weight of the decision—to carry a child for strangers under such pressured circumstances—leaves her reeling. As Mrs. Grey waits for an answer, Emilia must quickly weigh her desperate need for financial security against her autonomy, dignity, and the ethical implications of entering into such an arrangement under duress.

My daughter was born with silver poisoning in her blood—passed down from me—which made it hard for her to sense her wolf, and even harder for her to shift. I worked tirelessly, taking on every job I could, to earn enough money to find a cure for her. One night during a late shift, I saw her. My daughter, dressed like a princess in an elegant, Silverlight-woven gown, sat at a table in a high-end restaurant. With her was my mate—supposedly bedridden and paralyzed—wearing a tailored haute couture suit. Across the table sat the famous she-wolf of our pack, the daughter of a respected elder. They had ordered a lavish dinner, the bill totaling over $500,000. After the meal, I overheard my mate ask our daughter, “You remember how to tell the story, right?” She nodded and replied, “Yes. I’ll tell Mom we were working as werewolf junk collectors all night, collecting waste paper crates, and in the end, we only earned enough to buy half a loaf of bread.” My mate smiled, pleased with the answer. The she-wolf then gifted my daughter an entire collection of newly released moonstone jewelry. Before they left, my mate tipped each waitress $5,000. I stood frozen, tears falling as the truth shattered my heart: my mate—and even my beloved daughter—had been lying to me. Even in dormancy, my wolf mourned. A colleague saw me crying and asked what was wrong. I forced a smile and said, “I’m just happy. I got $5,000 tonight. It would’ve been even better… if it hadn’t come from my mate, the one who’s supposed to be paralyzed and lying in bed.” No one knew what I had sacrificed to be his mate. I waited for an apology. But it never came. So I made my decision. I called my father—the one who had been waiting all these years for me to return as his heir. When I disappeared from their lives, just as they had always secretly wished... That’s when they finally began searching for me across the world.

A car accident leaves me unconscious for a full three years. When I wake up, my family bursts into tears of joy. They care for me with the utmost attention. But from their behavior, I sense something is wrong. There are women's clothes in the house that don't fit me. My mother's shopping cart is filled with mysterious baby items. My father's friends send congratulatory messages about a new child, and my husband is always working overtime. When my husband once again leaves me alone under the pretext that there is something urgent at the company, I secretly follow him. Inside a warmly decorated house, my parents and husband sit around a table. A woman who looks almost exactly like me is holding a baby just a few months old, gently coaxing the child to call my husband "Daddy".