Boyfriend To Death Strade

That night, Liam served me my usual evening tea. I trusted him completely—he was my mate, after all, and a respected healer of Thornpack. I shouldn't have. When I woke up the next morning, my head was spinning. The special safe where I kept the morphing inhibitor—the one I'd spent my entire savings to import from Europe for our daughter Isla—was empty. Racing to the healing center, I found Liam celebrating. He was handing out moon-blessed wine, beaming with pride as Natalie's daughter Anna showed off her perfect transformation. My inhibitor had been used on his first love's pup instead of our own daughter. The shock triggered something in my brain. When I collapsed, they diagnosed me with the rare tumor that plagued our kind. Without inhibitors, I couldn't stop Isla's transformation that came early, her six year old body couldn't handle the massive wolf form and the force ripped through her young body. And I, for one, don't even have enough money to keep her in a treatment center. She died in my arms three days later, her little claws drawing blood as the pain overwhelmed her. Until her last breath, she kept asking why Papa hadn't come. Now, in my cold, empty home, with the white porcelain urn containing her ashes on the table, I touch her and decide to sever our partnership.

Celeste is a 18-year-old girl living in a beautiful neighborhood, with perfect families. But her family is not perfect. She lost her father to a senseless crime. She is mad at the world and she doesn't care that she caught the eye of a young gang lord. Every girl at her school falls over themselves to get his attention but she's trying everything she can to be invisible. She hates men because they are unreliable And she doesn't care that this one is beyond dreamy.

“Hot.” “It…it is so hot in here,” pressing her hands to her temples, she stuttered. “I meant you.” … She was born an omega without a wolf, unwanted, unclaimed, and hidden away like a shame no one wanted to remember. To her family, Elsa was not a daughter, but a mistake. A painful reminder better kept out of sight. In the werewolf world, turning eighteen is a dream. Candidates are chosen from each family and only those who qualify are admitted at the Elite Werewolf Academy, a brutal place where power is worshipped, cruelty is law, and the weak exist only to serve. Alphas are treated like gods. After eighteen years of isolation, Elsa is admitted into the academy alongside her flawless step-sister. She arrives with one goal. To stay invisible, survive, and leave without being noticed. But her resolve shatters the moment she meets Jake, the school’s prized Alpha, who is also her step-sister’s boyfriend. Hot, dangerous, and impossibly powerful, Jake’s blue-grey eyes follow Elsa from the moment they meet… and they never stop. From the moment they cross paths, something feels wrong in a way Elsa can’t ignore. Jake watches her too closely. Notices her too much. And no matter how hard she tries to avoid him, he keeps showing up, inside her room, in empty hallways, in moments that feel far too private to be harmless. Elsa knows better than to want him. Loving your sister’s boyfriend isn’t just forbidden, it is unforgivable. If anyone finds out, she won’t just lose her place at the academy. But the more Jake draws closer, the harder it becomes to pretend she feels nothing. Because some loves aren’t just forbidden…they come with consequences no one survives unchanged.

Everything was supposed to be fine. I was dancing between success and happiness. My path was straight, with no major things to take away. All my things was going well, almost perfection, I swear, until I became the obsession of a boy named Maël, and my world became so crooked...

My boyfriend, Miles, finally invited me to his family’s Christmas dinner. I passed out on the way there. Half-conscious, I heard him whisper, “Sorry, Eva. Those thugs said you’re just their boss’s type. Too pretty for your own good, babe. Blame that—not me.” “Don’t be scared. If you help me pay off the debt… maybe they’ll let me have you back. I’ll make it up to you. For the rest of your life, I swear.” He wheeled me through the back of a casino. My family’s casino. The boss he was selling me to… was my brother. Ever since our parents died in a crossfire, my brother had taken full responsibility for me. More than a brother, he’d become a father figure—a protector. My stupid boyfriend should be scared—he had no idea how fiercely my brother protected me, or how ruthless he could be to anyone who dared hurt me.

“You want this cock, don’t you?” he whispered, his voice a dark rasp. "Say it." “Yes,” I sobbed, my body trembling. “God, yes.” ------ Chelsea Laurent caught her boyfriend in bed with her best friend. What she didn't expect... was to fall for his father. In an attempt to drink away her sorrows and spend the night with a stranger, she ran straight into the arms of a man whose touch promised the kind of ruin she craved. But before the night could turn into something irreversible, she found out he was no other than her ex boyfriend's father and fled his hotel suite, never expecting to see him again. Until she came face to face with her boss. The stranger from the hotel. Her ex’s father. Leonard Grey, billionaire, ruthless tycoon, and the most dangerous man she could possibly want.

My boyfriend of three years had a secret true love: my vicious best friend. For her, he swallowed my family business whole, froze every cent I had, and crushed my dignity into the dirt. When my father lay dying from a brain hemorrhage, I begged him for $50,000 to save his life. He refused cold-heartedly. At the exact moment my father died on the operating table, he was busy spending millions on rare jewelry for her. I didn't show up to our engagement party. Instead, I sent a "gift" that played on the big screen. That arrogant man went completely insane in front of the whole world.

In the late stages of her pregnancy, my wife slipped away into the mountains with her childhood sweetheart, seeking some reckless thrill under the open sky. Fate, however, had other plans. She suffered a massive hemorrhage, and the two were rushed to the hospital. As a doctor, I took one glance at her condition and instructed the nurse to prepare for the cremation. In my previous life, I had risked everything to save her. On that very operating table, she and the child inside her perished together. Her childhood sweetheart, overcome with grief and fury, rallied others to accuse me of seeking personal revenge. Their rage was relentless, and they broke my hands. "A butcher like you, without medical ethics, deserves nothing less than eternal damnation!" they shouted, their words burning like brands on my soul. Yet I distinctly remembered—the surgery had been a success. Her vital signs had stabilized. Clinging to hope, I begged my in-laws to conduct an autopsy, to uncover the truth buried beneath the accusations. Instead, they called the police, who swiftly charged me with performing surgery under the influence of alcohol. Stripped of my rights, I was thrown into prison, where suffering became my only companion. Years later, upon release, I stumbled across a sight that tore what was left of my heart to shreds—my wife, alive and well, behind the wheel of a luxury car, accompanied by her childhood sweetheart and their child, living off the fortune I had worked tirelessly to build. Their betrayal didn't end there. Coldly and methodically, they lured me into a trap, casting me into a cement mixer to erase every trace of my existence. When I next opened my eyes, time had rewound itself. I was back on that fateful day, the one when her hemorrhage began.

My son is dead. He dies in a cramped toilet cubicle after having his skull smashed in. My husband, the school principal, arrives on the scene. The first thing he does is carry his true love's son, the one who killed my son, into an ambulance. They hurriedly leave. Before his death, my son tells me, "Don't cry, Mom. I'm not sad that Dad doesn't believe me. It's enough that you do…" I call Joshua Tucker during my son's funeral. He roars angrily, "Kenny had to get two stitches on his arm because of your son! If you keep pestering me like this, I'll beat him up when I get home!" My son? I look at the gaping hole in my son's head, the one that won't ever bleed anymore. I shut my eyes. Yes, he's my son. My son is dead, Joshua. From now on, there's nothing between us.

“You can’t blame me. Her father is the richest man in this country. You’re just an orphan. You should be grateful I even dated you. I won’t mind having you as my mistress though.” These were the words of my boyfriend after catching him in bed with my best friend. If it were with any other woman, it would have been less painful. But my best friend sleeping with my boyfriend behind my back? How does one heal from that? For the first time in my life; I am going to be very mean, because how could they? Yes, I was an orphan but does that give anyone the right to trample all over me? Well, I’d become the wife of that richest man! And have them address me as “Mom”