But Does He Know You Call Me When He Sleeps

Summer Willow, an orphan with no memories of her past, struggles to establish an identity for herself. She moves to New York City, where she meets Ryan and falls in love. Later, Ryan betrays her, causing her to lose every bit of hope she ever had in love. As a result, Summer becomes nonchalant, cold, and emotionally closed off. Her life begins to change when she meets Stephen Jones, a handsome billionaire who brings back the spark in her. He makes her believe in love again and helps her regain her lost identity. Little does Summer know that this same identity will become her biggest hindrance. Stephen Jones, a multimillionaire, was on his way to an important appointment when his car crashed into another vehicle that had taken the wrong lane. The accident triggered a strong sense of déjà vu as he rushed out to rescue the victim himself. The moment Stephen saw Summer, the solution to his long-lasting guilt flashed before his eyes. Could she be the girl he has been searching for?

He rejected me for the woman he once loved. Now, the Moon Goddess has given us another chance— but this time, I’m the one walking away. He was my mate. The Alpha every she-wolf dreamed of—strong, cold, perfect. But on the night of our union, he whispered the words that broke me completely: “You were never meant to be mine. She was.” His “her.” The woman who once owned his heart... and came back to claim it again. That night, I left the pack—bleeding, but proud. I carried the pain of rejection in silence, because to him, I was just the Luna chosen by fate. But to me, he was everything I’d ever wanted to love. Years passed, and I built myself back up, piece by piece. Then, under a blood moon, the Moon Goddess bound our souls again. I never expected to see him kneeling before me— the once-feared Alpha, now begging the same woman he once threw away. Only this time... the Luna he hunted has learned how to bite back.

I spent five years as Dominic Santoro’s wife in name only. Five years hidden behind closed doors, buried under his sheets, erased from his world. When he finally agreed to take me back to Chicago—to stand beside him, to be seen—I thought I had won. I bought a new dress. Soft. Elegant. Worthy of a Don’s woman. The night before we left, he looked at me through the mirror and said calmly, “Take the makeup off. Change into pants.” I asked why. He adjusted his cufflinks like I was nothing more than background noise. “Juliana Lancaster is back. Tonight is our engagement.” Russian Bratva. Lancaster blood. A marriage alliance. Seeing my silence, he laughed—careless, cruel. “What’s with that look? Didn’t we agree on this when we married? Brotherhood. Loyalty. No love.” Then he turned, eyes sharp and mocking. “Victoria Miller… you didn’t actually fall in love with me, did you?” I stood there, frozen. Because inside the inner pocket of his tailored suit— was my pregnancy report. And the Don of Chicago had no idea the woman he was about to sacrifice was carrying his heir.

I was nine months pregnant when the Wolf Council sent a resource report to the Luna’s quarters. It listed my mate’s monthly distributions. For two years straight, my husband—the pack’s Alpha—had been secretly providing the same female wolf with territory access, protection, and supplies. Without missing a single month. The first record dated back to two years ago. The same month I lost my first pup. A notification appeared—A contact request. The note read: “A woman kept by an Alpha.” I was strangely calm, one hand rested on my swollen belly as I accepted. She messaged immediately. “You saw the report, didn’t you?” I didn’t reply, I opened her feed instead. The earliest post was dated April 21st, two years ago. A female wolf leaned against an Alpha’s chest. His face was cropped out—but the mark on his shoulder was clear. I recognized it instantly. My mate’s Alpha mark. The caption read: “Thank you for choosing me on my coming-of-age night.” April 21st. That was the night I lay bleeding in the healing room, losing my unborn pup. He had told me he was away on pack business. I kept scrolling. She trained freely in Alpha-only areas. Used resources reserved for the Luna. Was guarded as if she already belonged at his side. Every post carried the same message: He chose her. Pinned at the top was a medical report—She was pregnant—With the Alpha’s pup. I put the device down and returned to our bedroom. Then I received it—Photos. Videos. She sent them to me on purpose— to flaunt that the love I had once been so proud of had already rotted beyond repair. I sat down slowly, my pup shifting inside me, pain spreading through my chest. Only then did I understand—He had betrayed me completely. This kind of love—I don’t want it. This pack—I won’t stay in it. When my pup is born, I will leave—And I will take his heir with me. Let the Alpha search every territory, scour every border, tear the pack apart in regret— he will never find us.

The Rossi mafia family followed an ancestral rule. Before marriage, the heir received one chance each year to draw lots. Drawing a fortunate lot meant he could choose his own spouse and avoid an arranged marriage. Dante Rossi drew an unfortunate lot for five consecutive years, and I, who had been dating him for seven years, never managed to marry him. This year marked the sixth year. I overheard his conversation with Marco Valentino, the Underboss. "Mr. Rossi, you drew a fortunate lot again." Dante's voice carried an unprecedented coldness. "Same as always, switch it to an unfortunate lot." Marco hesitated, then tried to persuade him. "Mr. Rossi, you've switched it for five years straight. Aren't you worried Celia will leave? Celia's the most beautiful woman in Nopales. Half the men in the city are chasing her." Dante said with absolute certainty, "She won't. Celia loves me too much. She won't marry anyone else. "Years ago, Livia's father died saving me. His dying wish was for me to stay by her side for five years. After this year ends, I'll give Celia a grand wedding as compensation." My last shred of hope died after I heard those words. Dante probably did not know that the Rossi family had one final ancestral rule. If the heir failed to draw a fortunate lot six times, he would lose the right to choose his own marriage. Moreover, I would soon be marrying someone else.

My dad never got over his first love, so he traded me for her daughter, Irene. I spent twenty years like that before they finally took me back and named me the real heiress. So when it was time to pick a husband, I didn't care about anything else. I just wanted someone with a clean past. Like Shane Terrell. Detective captain. Cold, intimidating, and known for ignoring women—yet when he confessed, his ears went red. "Lana Laurent, you're my first. You have to take responsibility for me." I believed him. Thought I'd found the one. Then Irene came back. I stood in our house and watched Shane hold her, crying. "Why'd you make me lie to her? Why'd you make me marry her? You're the one I loved first!"

I swore I'd never crawl back the night my Alpha turned me down. He kept me a secret because I was a "fat nobody," until I saw him kiss my best friend under the full moon. He told me I wasn't good enough to be his Luna. He told me I'd hurt his reputation. After three years, I go back to Los Angeles with a kid he doesn't know about and a new name for the baby. Thanks to a DNA story that showed I was switched at birth, I'm no longer the mean Omega that everyone made fun of. I'm now the heiress of the Moonstone Corporation. No matter how much power I have, wear, or how red my hair is, he doesn't know me. He will, though. He needs me now, not you. His company is failing. The throne of his pack is in danger. And I’m the only one who can save it for a price. The contract marriage he offers? I’ll sign it just to watch him burn with the same hunger he once denied me. But every time he touches me, every time his eyes darken with that old possessiveness, I feel the tie we both tried to break. And when he finds out the truth that the little boy calling me “Mommy” has his golden eyes it’ll be too late. Because the rejected Luna doesn’t want payback anymore. She wants power. And maybe… she still wants him. He was my first loss. I’ll be his last chance

You’ll divorce me… because she asked you to?” Sereia Fontaine never believed love was fair she always knew it was cruel and pain filled but what she didn’t know was that on the night she thought she was celebrating her marriage, she would be handed divorce papers,by the man she loved dearly simply because her sister said so. The woman her husband truly loves has returned and she wants her place back. Sereia has always been the one who waits. She loved a man who never chose her, lived in a home that never felt like hers, and spent years convincing herself that love meant endurance. When the past resurfaces, Sereia’s world collapses fast. Words are twisted. Loyalty turns fragile. Cast out with nothing but shame and sadness. Sereia is forced to face a life of struggle but New York is full of dangerous men, broken promises, and second chances that don’t come without a cost. And some lies don’t stay buried… even when they should.

It is the third year of my marriage when the video of my bodyguard, Julian Sutherland, holding an umbrella over me in a downpour goes viral. Overnight, the internet becomes obsessed with the "Icy Protector and his Forbidden Heiress." Netizens are relentless; they dig through the archives until they unearth a ten-year-old clip. In the video, a girl was holding a pair of high-heeled shoes while sprinting through the Folander airport. My friend teased, "No way, Ms. Serina Brown. Are you really flying back home to confess to that poor man? What could you possibly see in him?" The camera shakes, capturing my youthful face. I was just a reckless 20-year-old. "I love Julian. I love everything about him." That night, after seeing the video, Julian loses his composure and bursts into my room. "I didn't know you loved me back then. I thought… I thought… God, it was never supposed to end like this." I pull my coat around me and stand rooted on the spot, remaining silent. Suddenly, a mocking laugh echoes from behind me. Someone places their hand firmly on my waist and says, "Are you trying to reminisce about your love with my wife right in front of me? Do I look dead to you?"

"You were never her, Aria. You were just... there." Jason's words echo in my head as I stand in the back of the church, watching him mourn another woman on her sister's wedding day. Isabelle. The perfect dead girlfriend. The ghost I've been competing with for three years. I thought I could be enough. I thought love could grow where grief once lived. But when I find the evidence, when I see the hotel receipts, the text messages, the photos of Jason with Isabelle's sister Violet, I realize the truth. I was never the love story. I was the intermission. What I don't know yet is that nothing about my marriage was real. Not Jason's cruelty. Not Violet's affair. Not the stranger's rescue. They've all been playing a game, and I'm the prize they're willing to destroy each other for. When the truth comes out, when I discover why Isabelle really died and who's been pulling the strings, I'll have to decide: Do I let them destroy me, or do I burn their whole world down?