Cheetah Coat

During the holiday break, my wife, Jayda Glover—the hospital's star surgeon and Chief of Cardiac Surgery—suddenly "had to work overtime." Our third-anniversary hot springs trip? Canceled. That night, I was scrolling social media when a post from her intern, Dillon Tripp, popped up. My ice-queen wife always said her "golden hands" were only for patients. Apparently, they cook now too. She was in a cartoon apron, calmly chopping vegetables. The caption read: [Thank you, Dr. Glover, for personally cooking to comfort me after I was bullied by a patient's family!] I tapped like and left a comment. [White coat to apron. Very domestic.] Ten minutes later, the whole hospital knew Cardiac Surgery's untouchable beauty had broken her rule—just to cook for a younger guy. Jayda called. Dishes clattered in the background. "You really had to embarrass me in public? He got hot water thrown on him by a patient's family today. I was just doing my duty as his mentor! "A pampered professor's kid like you wouldn't know the first thing about how hard broke med students have it. "Apologize to Dillon right now. Otherwise, no matter how much you beg later, I'm not going on that trip with you!" Beg her? I looked at the divorce papers that had just arrived on the coffee table and let out a quiet laugh. I wasn't begging anymore. From this moment on, we were strangers.

“You’re a blank, John. A hollow shell. Do you really think I’d tie the future of the Card family to a man who can’t even manifest a drop of instinct?” Caleb’s voice was like a wire garrote, tightening around John’s throat. “Carl is the heir. You’re just the mistake we kept in the basement.” John Mark was the Syndicate’s golden prince—until his power never came. In a world where the Hale Mafia rules through raw, predatory instinct, being a "blank" is a death sentence. When his biological brother, Carl Cole, returns to claim his birthright, John isn't just pushed aside; he’s erased. His brothers look at him with loathing, his father treats him like a stain on the ledger, and his fiancé, Caleb Card, discards him for the new, powered heir. But the city is rotting. The Abyss King, Morcant, demands a soul to keep the shadows at bay. With nothing left to lose and fifteen days to live, John signs the Sacrifice Certificate in secret. He’ll give his life to save the family that hates him, paying back his debts in blood. He dons a red coat and a porcelain mask, becoming the nameless "Red Savior" the city worships—while by day, he is the "useless" son the Hales kick into the dirt. As the clock ticks toward the final jump, John discovers his power didn't vanish—it was stolen. Now, trapped in a house of vipers, John must decide: Does he reveal the truth and watch his family’s world burn, or does he leap into the dark to save the monsters who broke him? The Abyss is hungry. And the man they called a failure is the only one who can feed it.

"CODE BLUE!" shouts the nurse at the emergency room accompanied by a flat-line in the cardiac monitor. Clive Aster arrived in his matte black Audi in his all white coat. Upon hearing the wailing sound of the cardiac monitor, he immediately removed his coat and jumped to the patient's location. "I'll start CPR!" as he jumped to the patient's side and started pumping. "Administer Epinephrine now!" he shouted again. Then the cardiac monitor goes tooot-tooot-tooot. There's a heartbeat! The patient was saved. Clive Aster is a well-known doctor. He has mastered multiple specialties which includes Emergency Medicine, Neuro and Cardiac Surgery. Nobody in the City Hospital knows who he was. He just came in today and rushed to the patient immediately. When the commotion was over, the director of the City Hospital, Celeste Klatt, came in and welcomed him. "Welcome Dr. Aster! Welcome to your new home." Celeste shook Clive's hand and gave him a light kiss on the cheeks. "Parting ways seemed like yesterday, Celeste. It's nice seeing you again." "It's lovely seeing you again too, Clive. Come, follow me to my office." When they entered Celeste's office, Celeste ordered Clive to kiss her to which he abode. "Kiss me! I've missed you!" Clive started to kiss Celeste on her cheeks, then to her lips down to her neck and back to her lips again and he stopped! Slap! Celeste's hand landed on Clive's face. "Who told you to stop?!" Celeste angrily asked. "You never changed Celeste." Clive fixed his face and left Celeste's office.

My eyes fell upon a woman lying naked on the cold floor, her face hidden behind a curtain of tangled hair. Her screams echoed through the room as pain wracked her fragile body. I rushed to her side and gently brushed the hair away from her face. Cuts marred her skin, blood oozing from her split lips. Dark blue bruises had formed beneath her swollen eyes. She whimpered softly, every sound a broken plea for help. “Hey… I’m here now,” I murmured. “Nothing will happen to you. Don’t worry—I won’t let anyone hurt you anymore.” I shrugged off my coat and wrapped it around her trembling body, preparing to lift her into my arms when Max stepped forward and placed a firm hand on my shoulder. “Don’t forget what Ella told you,” he warned quietly. “Get the car ready,” I muttered, ignoring him. “You’re saving her life today,” Max said again, his voice heavy, “and one day, this girl will destroy you. Remember Ella’s warning.” “I don’t know what my future holds,” I replied coldly, “but I won’t leave a girl in this condition.” I bent down and lifted her into my arms. She squirmed weakly before burying her face against my chest, clinging to me as if I were her last hope. Mate. Dominic’s growl thundered inside my head. My breath hitched. My eyes widened in horror. Richard’s wife… The woman whose husband I had killed— She was my mate.

Jasamina Rutherford was forced by her parents to marry a politician who's so much years older than she is, because they wanted money and social influence. Ludale McCully is a beast in human form and a psycho. He abused her a lot. But, when she gave birth to her baby and he beat her so badly, Jasamina damned all the consequences and ran away with her new born baby. Out on the cold streets; bruised and battered, no food, money or supplies, and with a baby hidden inside her coat, she was at the end of her rope when she ran into him. ***** Tanner Dantes lost his family in the most brutal way a person would loose a lost one. It was so traumatizing and horrifying that he took to the streets. He drank himself to stupor, just to keep the memories at bay. Sober is not an option, because sober means remembering. Then, a woman ran into him one cold dark night. She was so bruised, there was no part of her body that wasn't 'occupied' with either a fresh or an old wound/bruise/scar. And, she has a baby strapped so protectively inside her clothes. She fainted in his arms. . . A woman on the run from her powerful psychotic husband and a man who'll drink himself to death than to go sober and let reality in. How will they heal? Was she able to escape her husband? With Tanner's state of mind threatened, will be help Jasamina? Can he stay sober long enough? Especially when she reminds him of everything he's trying to forget? With this two damaged soul trying to wrap their lives around each other, how did they overcome their greatest enemy of all? Why don't you go on this ride with me, let's find out!

In a dark world Aliyah stumbles on her mate in the midst of her troubled world and ex. He is a protector, mysterious and dangerous man. In the midst of unsettledness and wars Don Alessandro finds his mate. With the confusion and secrets it's extremely difficult for everything to work out as planned. Every danger makes them come out stronger or does it? Excerpt from story... As soon as Alessandro left my room, I devised a plan which I have to put into motion tonight. Around 10pm, I snuck out. I tried to sneak into Alessandro’s room. I was almost there when a bodyguard caught me of course. So I went for plan B. “Ooops.” I said dropping my coat and showing my see through nightee. “I will tell him you stared at my nakedness.” I said. “I am sorry.” He said shivering and scurried away. That was easy. Probably not the best idea but it worked. After a few minutes I kind of heard them talking about it. Seriously they should shut up. That guard went to tell his friends about it. How stupid. I thought they don’t talk. “You stared at who?” I heard Alessandro say angrily. Sorry to them no one asked them to gossip. This also means he will be coming soon… I have to find… Bingo! I can probably find something there. He thought keeping me away from his room will keep him safe. As soon as I put my hand in his jacket he called me. “Aliyah you don’t want to do that.” He said. Enemies in the mafia and pack can't wait to tear them to shreds. Danger always looms and in addition secrets cause distrust. Will the secrets break them or make them stronger.

For eight years in a marriage devoid of light, I had abortions five times. Every time, Sam would grip my hand when I woke up, his eyes red, and promise to find the best doctors to help me recover. After the third miscarriage, he finally hired a team of top-tier nutritionists, ensuring that every single meal was planned perfectly. He always comforted me, "Don't worry, Penny. We're still young, so we can have another baby!" When I found out I was pregnant again, snowflakes were dancing outside my window. I wrapped my fur coat tightly around my body and rushed to the company, only to hear Wren's furious voice outside the VIP suite, "Are you insane? Those five babies were your own flesh and blood!" Sam replied coldly, "Nicole needs specimen for her experiments. All I'm doing is providing her with the materials she needs." His words dug into my heart like icy spikes, and I could even hear my own bones cracking. "As for Penelope…" He chuckled. "Do you think that our marriage certificate is the real deal?" Snowflakes stung my face like needles, and I finally found out the truth about our marriage. From the very beginning, I was nothing more than a living test subject for the woman he truly loved. Sam was right. Those unborn children never even had legal identities, and were worth less than a piece of paper, just like my so-called marriage. Glass shattered from inside the room, and I could hear Wren cursing, but I turned and walked towards the elevator. Since Sam's priority was Nicole and nothing else, I was hell-bent on making him pay the price.

Dr. Elara Vance's life is defined by exhaustion, crushing student loans, and grueling 30-hour residency shifts. Her passion for medicine is her singular focus until the brutal, careless discovery of her boyfriend Daniel’s long-running affair shatters her foundation. Seeking oblivion, she allows her best friend to drag her into Manhattan's elite world, where she collides with Liam Sterling, the notoriously private and ruthlessly efficient tech CEO. ​Their intense, desperate one-night stand is a blur of emotional destruction, a mistake Elara vows to bury. But weeks later, fate delivers an impossible complication: she is pregnant with the tech mogul's child. ​Liam, a master of cold, transactional risk management, moves swiftly to contain the scandal. He ambushes Elara with the "White Coat Contract," an impersonal legal offer promising immediate, full payment of her crippling medical school debt and complete financial security. But his protection comes with a crushing price: Elara must resign or significantly scale back her demanding residency. This requirement threatens to extinguish the medical career she bled for, forcing her to choose between stability and her identity. ​Forced into this high-stakes arrangement, Elara enters Liam's sterile, controlled world, furious at the man who views her life’s work as a liability. Yet, their forced proximity blurs the sharp lines of the contract. She brings chaos and warmth to his ordered life, and he, in turn, sees the fierce dedication that transcends her financial profile. With her professional life precariously balanced, Elara must decide if Liam’s love is worth the risk of losing her identity, and he must decide if his obsession with control is worth losing the only person who has ever truly challenged the sterile efficiency of his world.

⚠️ WARNING: 18+ ONLY. Extremely Explicit. Dark Themes. This is not a "sweet" romance. This is your new obsession. Read only if you're ready to get ruined. Age Gap,Best Friend's Father,Obsessive/Possessive Hero,Praise/Degradation & Primal Play,Graphic Smut & Mature Themes🥵🥵🔞🔞 Let’s be honest. You’re not here for the plot. You’re here for the sin. Welcome to the Smut World🥵 "Call my name, Ariana" Mateo’s breath was a scorching sin against her ear, his hand tangled in her hair, forcing her head back to expose the pale, trembling line of her throat. He didn't wait for her answer. He bit—a sharp, possessive claim that made her arch against him, her fingers digging into his expensive suit. "M-Mateo," she brokenly whispered, her dignity dissolving in the dark of his library. "Again. Tell me who owns you." ___ Ariana Cole came to Madrid to be a nurse. She came to save lives and build a future. But the moment she collided with Dr. Mateo López, she realized she wasn't there to save anyone—she was there to be consumed. He is the "Ice Surgeon." Twenty years her senior. Her boss. And her best friend’s father. He is a monster in a white coat who doesn't believe in "no." He doesn't want her heart; he wants her submission. He wants to hear her scream his name while his daughter sleeps just down the hall. This is a hostile dance of power, denial, and filthy, intoxicating lust. Every sterile hospital hallway is a hunting ground. Every midnight encounter in his mansion is a lesson in how much she’s willing to lose. Her career? Her best friend? Her sanity? Mateo is going to take it all. And Ariana? She’s going to beg him for more.

On my birthday, I personally prepare 16 dishes. After setting up the candlelight, I open a bottle of red wine. I take a photo and send it to my husband, Eric Sinclair. "I'm working late tonight. Don't wait for me," he replies. I choose to believe him. But after midnight, I notice an Instagram story posted by Shirley Huxley, his secretary. Eric was there with her, dressed in the trench coat I once gave him. They sat side by side in the VIP seat of football stadium where my favorite Super Bowl take place. Entwined in a passionate embrace, they kissed beneath a sea of shimmering lights and the roar of thousands of fans. That game is the one I have always longed to experience with him. I look down at the cold food on the table. Eric's words keep ringing in my head. "I hate kissing." "Marriage is a partnership, not about love and kisses." Though we've been married for ten years, we've never shared a single kiss. Meanwhile, he's out there, kissing Shirley openly and passionately. Despite it all, not a single tear falls from my eyes. The next day, Eric settles into his chair, completely unfazed. "Return the gallery to Shelly," he commands. I nod quietly, saying nothing. Suddenly, Layla Sinclair, my daughter, comes running down the stairs and throws herself into Shirley's arms. "Aunt Shirley, you're my favorite. I don't like Mom!" In that instant, it hits me—the home I devoted my heart and soul to means nothing anymore. It doesn't matter that I've been married to Eric for a decade. Now, all I want is to find myself again. I decide to accept an invitation from the Parisoir School of Fashion Design. From this moment on, I won't wait for them to come home, and I won't look back.