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Nolan Shaw is the big shot on campus that everyone is intimidated by. He's also the guy I've been in love with for a while now. Out of nowhere, a new admirer of his pops out. She bears a striking resemblance to me. When I bring him his water, she beats me to it. When I write him a love letter, she tears it up. Finally, I muster up the courage to be honest with Nolan about my feelings—only for her to rush over and kick over the candles I prepared for the confession. That's when I finally lose my patience. "Just what on earth are you doing?" She ignores me and grabs Nolan's arm before saying, "I'll be frank with you. I'm actually here on a mission. You and Nolan will end up in a bitter marriage, hurting each other. So the system wants me to stop you two from being together." I don't believe a word she says, thinking that she's just lying to separate us. But at the very next second, I hear her thoughts. [Just what on earth did this scumbag do to make the 22-year-old Teresa fall so hopelessly in love with him? I bet she'll be heartbroken if she finds out that in the future, he'll find her boring and end up keeping 18 mistresses on the side. And after the divorce, he'll even make it hard for her to earn a living. She ends up dying of exhaustion, too!]

Five years ago, I was his life and I thought we would be the end game until Rosalin, his new assistant, seeped into our life. It began with urgent late night meetings. Our dinner conversations, once filled with shared secrets and soft laughter, were replaced by the rhythmic tapping of his thumbs against his phone. He stopped looking at me across the table, his gaze permanently fixed on the glowing screen as he replied to her "emergency" texts. When I’d walk into his office, the air would turn brittle. He’d stop talking mid-sentence, Rosalin leaning over his shoulder with a look that wasn't professional. But the breaking point was when he left me waiting for six hours on our anniversary Gala to celebrate Rosaline’s birthday. “We got occupied with something, Victoria.” He said, “Rosaline has brought cake for you. It was her birthday as well.” Just then a notification came into my phone. It was Rosaline’s post. She had posted a picture minutes before entering the gala. She was sitting in a seven-star hotel, the one I asked Jayden to book for our Anniversary but he refused after saying it was full. She had been cutting her birthday cake surrounded by red candles’ flames and a pair of hands had cupped hers. Jayden’s hands. He had ghosted our Anniversary Gala to celebrate Rosaline’s birthday! That was when I realised, I had no future with this man. I will disappear from his world, taking his child with me.

As my murderer's claws tear into my abdomen inch by inch, my father and brother are seated in our family's banquet hall. They're celebrating Carly's 18th birthday and coming-of-age. "You'll always be my little girl." "Happy birthday, Carly." They light 18 pink candles for her. On top of the exquisite red velvet cake is a wolf figurine that they carved for her, and there are well wishes and laughter all around. Meanwhile, I'm curled up in a sewer filled with liquid silver as I bleed to death. My phone has been crushed, and I can't get out. I can only cry for help. A few days later, my father and brother show up together at the autopsy room. My brother stands by the operating table with a scalpel. He slices open the body and sews it back up like it's nothing. My father just covers his nose as he shoots a disgusted glance at my body. He urges my brother to hurry up with the autopsy report. "The victim is a young female wolf presumed to be of pure lineage. Before her death, she was subjected to prolonged captivity and torture. Her throat is nearly severed, her cervical spine is dislocated, and her chest cavity has collapsed. She was also injected with liquid silver before death." Hearing the report, my father looks so calm that it's just like a case study of no consequence. Neither of them can recognize that the body belongs to me—their daughter and sister!

My adopted daughter, Phoebe Marsh, possessed an evil ability. Whenever she got hurt, the pain would also be inflicted directly on my biological daughter, Maisie Shaw. She deliberately hurt herself, covering her body with wounds and bruises. Then, she would turn around with cold eyes, watching Maisie writhe on the floor in agony until she passed out from the pain. With no medical solution available, I broke down and held Maisie close, begging my husband, Brandon Shaw, to send Phoebe away. However, he would erupt in fury. "It's obviously Maisie who's been faking illness for attention, and you're making up this ridiculous story to get rid of Phoebe. She's just a fragile, helpless child. How can you be so vicious?" After that, Phoebe escalated her self-harm even more viciously. Meanwhile, Maisie spent every day curled up in the corner of her bed, refusing to let anyone touch her. On Maisie's birthday, Phoebe threw herself from the fifth floor. Just as Maisie was blowing out her candles and making a wish, she suddenly began bleeding from all her facial orifices, and she died instantly. Yet, Phoebe only suffered minor scrapes. I died from overwhelming grief shortly after. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to Phoebe's first day in our home. Maisie was playing with her Legos when she suddenly clutched her ankle and started crying. This time, I grabbed the broom from behind the door and swung it toward Maisie, shouting, "I'll beat you up for faking illness and seeking attention!"

Work! This was one word. The word that Lola's life revolved around. when her mother gets sick and needs Surgery. Lola and her sister have to work harder than they do to pay her hospital bill with help and support from their friends. Well this was the plan till She fell in love with a certain Young master. The young master is smitten by his maid. What do they say about dating your boss?. **** The helicopter landed on a beach no one was around. Hayden carried her bridal style she looked ahead and saw a candle light dinner prepared. She was a normal girl and it tickled her fantasies. Lola his cheeks Hayden sat her down and sat opposite her. “You wanted to tell me something” Hayden asked Lola walked over to him and sat on his legs. She held his hand and took in a deep breath “So I have been thinking about us lately and I want to tell you…… I love you" Hayden was stunned looking at her. “Hey" Lola said waving her hand in his face “Fine I'll just take my words back" “Say it again" Hayden said “I love you” Lola repeated cupping his face in her hands “Again” “I love you Hayden” she said his lips. Hayden felt so joyful looking at her. He had waited for her to say those words willingly for what felt like forever “Happy birthday my love" Hayden said leading her to the cake which had a 20 with candles on it. “What are you waiting for? Make a wish and them out" Lola looked at Hayden if only he knew hee wish this afternoon was for him to be here. She closed her eyes making a wish before blowing out the candles.

Serena Calloway was the perfect wife—devoted, patient, and hopelessly in love with her husband. She gave Killian Blackwood everything: her heart, her loyalty, and a son who carried his name. But her love, however, was something her husand took for granted. On the night of their anniversary, Serena walks into what should have been a celebration of their love—only to realize the candles, the diamond necklace, the handwritten note… were for someone else. Samantha James. The woman who had supposedly saved Killian, the woman who had snuck her way into their lives with seduction, the woman their own son now called Mommy. And when Serena finally confronts her husband, the man she had built her life with, he looks her in the eyes and asks: “What have you ever done for me?” She's left betrayed, humiliated, and rejected. Killian doesn’t stop at taking her dignity—he takes her company, her son, and the life she worked so hard to build. Left with nothing but shattered dignity and a divorce paper shoved in her trembling hands, Serena makes a silent vow: They were going to r egret this. Six months later, the woman Killian tossed aside walks back into his world—but not as the broken wife he left behind. Serena Calloway is a name whispered in boardrooms, a presence more powerful than he ever imagined. And standing beside her is Damien Knight—his business rival, the man who picked up the pieces Killian so carelessly tossed aside… the man who now owns Serena’s heart. But Killian is not ready to let go. Not when he realizes the truth behind the woman he lost. Not when regret burns deeper than love ever did. Not when Serena’s new happiness feels like his greatest downfall.

"He's my stepfather. Technically. But we have history from high school. He was my first love. My first everything." I stare at my hands because I can't look at her face while I say this. "Now he's forcing me to pole dance for him while he watches." "Watches?" "Yes." The word sticks in my throat. "He watches, touches himself and then he... marks me. Without touching me anywhere else. Just watching and then claiming me like I'm his territory." Three weeks ago, I walked out on my husband. Eleven months of rejection, of wondering what was wrong with me, of lighting candles for a man who was saving himself for my best friend. When I finally heard the truth from his own mouth, I packed one bag and I left. I thought I was starting over. Instead, I drove straight into my mother's mess. Gloria, the woman who raised chaos and called it motherhood, married a billionaire, cleaned out forty-seven million dollars from his accounts and disappeared without a word to me. Now his lawyers are at my door and I am the only thing she left behind worth collecting. My new employer is Richard Moore. Billionaire. Tycoon. The most dangerous man I have ever met. He is also the boy who took my virginity at seventeen and broke my heart in the same breath. He wants a year of service. Pole dancing, forced proximity, and all the dark things written in fine print I didn't have a lawyer to read for me. He wants to punish my mother and I'm the only punishment available. I hate him. I want to survive him. I want to get through this year with my mind and my heart intact. But what happens when surviving starts to feel a lot like wanting?

After returning from a three-month business trip, I rushed to meet my fiancé and resolve our dispute over my best friend, Elena. Elena’s ex-husband left her penniless and broken. I offered her my apartment, helped her "find herself" and accompanied her through nights of tequila-soaked sobbing. My fiance, Julian, hated it. Or so he said. "She’s a leech, Clara," he’d snap, watching her try on my designer coats. "She doesn't even know how to make toast without calling for help. Are you her best friend or her maid? People like her don't want to heal; they just want a free ride." She's lost everything, Julian," I argued."Without her, I wouldn't have survived my mother’s death. Please, just be patient for me." I let myself in quietly. The house was still, the air smelling of expensive candles and something else—something sweet and floral that wasn't mine. I walked toward the master suite, expecting to find Julian asleep. Instead, the door was ajar. The wine bottle I had brought to surprise Julian slipped from my hand, leaving me paralyzed for a moment. Elena was draped across my silk sheets. Julian was hovering over her, expertly shucking oysters—my favorite—and feeding them to her with a look of doting, soft-eyed tenderness he hadn't shown me in months. "You're so much better at this than she is," Julian purred. "Because she’s cold, Julian," Elena whispered, brushing a stray hair from his forehead. "She’s all business. She doesn't know how to satisfy men in bed." I stood in the doorway, my whole self trembling, not in cold but in pure rage and disgust. "I hope the oysters are fresh," I said, my voice cutting through the room like a blade.

“You want soft?” Marco’s voice whispered against my ears. I tried to keep my breathing steady, but the way he leaned over me…one hand braced on the wall, made it impossible. “I’m not soft, Cassandra. I’m not the kind of man who lights candles and whispers pretty lies in bed.” He leaned in, our lips inches apart “Listen to me, dolcezza, I f***. I dominate. I tie your hands, your legs and make you forget your own name.” I pressed my lips tightly, refusing to give him the satisfaction that only his words was messing with my head, “You don’t scare me, Marco.” His hands wrapped around my throat..not to hurt. Just enough to remind me I was his to command. “No, but I do something worse.” His lips brushed my ear. “I make you beg.” I hated him. I hated the way my p**** ached for his touch. I hated my body for betraying me for wanting him. “Say it,” he whispered. “Tell me who you belong to.” “I don’t belong to anyone.” He shoved my legs apart roughly, plunging two mighty fingers inside me, “Then why is your p**** soaked, bella? Hmm? Tell me do you want my c*** or my collar?” I swallowed hard, “Both.” Marco smiled. “Then be a good girl for daddy. Kneel!” **** SEQUEL TO FORCED TO BE THE BILLIONAIRE’S SURROGATE CASSANDRA’S STORY She was sold to the ruthless mafia don to bear an her for his cold, gay son. But she finds herself caught in a dangerous web of forbidden desire. But the real danger isn’t her supposed fiancee—it’s Don Marco, her ruthless father-in-law. It begins with whispered temptations and stolen glances, then escalates into late-night visits and nights of forbidden passion.

After getting remarried, I put my husband, Steven Graham, on the family's service roster at a rate of ten thousand dollars an hour. His childhood sweetheart, Julie Ziegler, heard about it and signed a long-term contract without a second thought. Four months later, the balance in my offshore account had climbed to nearly a million dollars. On our wedding anniversary, Steven was supposed to spend the day with me. Then Julie called. Her dog had suddenly gotten sick, and she asked him to go to her. I didn't get angry. I simply sent her an encrypted message. [Don't forget to transfer the payment on time. Late fees will be charged separately.] Later, when I had an attack of appendicitis, Steven sped through the city to take me to an underground clinic. Halfway there, the encrypted communicator rang again. Julie's voice came through the speaker. "Steven, it's raining. I forgot my umbrella. Can you come pick me up?" The car fell silent. I said nothing. I pulled a black umbrella from the hidden compartment, shoved it into his arms, unlocked the passenger door, and gestured for him to pull over. Steven looked at my pale face. The veins on the back of his hand stood out slightly. For once, he seemed reluctant. I opened the door and was immediately drenched by the rain. I turned around and said one last thing. "Just make sure she transfers the money on time." Even on our daughter Nora Graham's birthday, Julie's call hit right on schedule. "Steven, can you come with me to a kennel event tomorrow? All the family representatives are bringing dates. If I show up alone, I'll seem inadequate." Steven gripped the communicator and hesitated as he glanced at our daughter, who was placing candles on her birthday cake. Without even looking up, Nora picked up a piece of cake with her fork and said, "Dad, make sure that lady pays. Since it's a special occasion today, charge double."