Clung

The Moretti Family's Thanksgiving party was in full swing downstairs—crystal clinks, fake laughs, classic mafia gloss. Meanwhile, I was curled up in a servant's room on the third floor. Jackson Moretti's wife. Legally, anyway. My hands were ice. I gripped the ultrasound report like it could anchor me. Three heartbeats. Strong, steady. It was supposed to be a surprise—his big Thanksgiving gift. To the outside world, Jackson was a polished Stanford grad, running a top-tier consulting firm in San Francisco. But behind the scenes? He ran the Moretti empire—cold, calculated, pulling strings in the West Coast's darkest corners. Three years of marriage and we barely spoke, but I still clung to the hope that maybe... maybe there was something real left. Then I heard him downstairs. "You really not letting your wife come down?" "Isabella?" He laughed. "She'd kill the vibe." Another voice chimed in. "Lina's back, right? Wild you married her twin. Which one do you actually like?" Jackson didn't miss a beat. "Isabella's just a stand-in. Quiet. Predictable. I could tell her to drop dead and she'd say 'okay.'" "So when are you ditching her?" "Dunno. She thinks she matters. I'm just playing her." I slapped a hand over my mouth to muffle the sob. A minute later, I was heading downstairs, numb. I brushed my fingers over my belly. "Sorry, babies," I whispered. Triplets. His. He thought I was blind. Weak. Stuck. What he didn't know? A quiet woman, once she snaps—she can burn it all down.

“Benjamin, stop! This isn't the right place. If anyone catches us, I'm done for.” He smirked, locking the door behind him. He approached, grabbing me and placing me on my desk. He tried to kiss me again, but I dodged. “Benja—” I started, but he cut me off with a whispered, “Shush.” Before I knew it, he lowered his head, removed my panties, and spread my legs. The moment he placed his tongue on my clit, I felt like I was in heaven. I couldn't believe I had gone years without sex, especially craving Benjamin, who knew exactly how to please me. Racheal Williams battles the pain of childbirth only to face an even greater torment when her newborn twins were almost taken from her. She managed to keep her daughter but lost her son to her ex-husband. She was forced into an impossible agreement with her ex-husband Benjamin and her mother during their bitter divorce. She was shattered but hopeful; she clung to the dream of reuniting with her son. Four and a half years later, as a fierce and determined police officer in Rome, Racheal has rebuilt her life with her daughter Kyla. But her past resurfaces, her ex-husband Benjamin appeared in Rome. Benjamin discovers the daughter he never knew existed and seeks to reclaim his place in her life, igniting a battle of wills and hearts. Amidst the chaos, betrayal, and an undeniable connection that still lingers, Racheal and Benjamin are thrust into a collision course of love and loss. Can they find a way to mend the broken pieces of their past, or will the secrets and lies keep them apart?

“You don’t get to reject me, Avery. I will never give you that pleasure.” Julian’s voice was a dark promise, laced with venom. "I’ll keep you, watch you suffer, until I’m ready to discard you. Remember, I own you. And when I’m done with you… you’ll wish you were never born." ********** Avery Smith knew nothing but pain. Abandoned by her pack, betrayed by her own blood, she clung to one fragile hope: her fated mate, Julian Styles. But hope shattered when he chose her sister instead, his rejection a blade to her soul. "A weak thing like you can never be my mate." Humiliated, she fled, vowing never to return. Fate had other plans. When tragedy forces Avery back, she finds herself face-to-face with a man who wants her more than anything... more than power, more than pride, more than sanity. The ruthless Alpha King doesn’t just claim her; he consumes her. His touch is fire, his words a whip, his hunger a storm she can’t outrun. "I don’t want you!" she lies, her body betraying her as his scent wraps around her like chains. "Let go of me!" But Kaiden’s grip is unbreakable, his voice a growl against her skin. "You’re mine, Avery. Every breath, every whimper, every fucking heartbeat." His lips crash into hers, stealing the air from her lungs. "And I’ll take what’s mine." A bond forged in blood. A love born in obsession. Will their souls ignite, or will their war burn them both to ash?

The humiliation clung to my skin like a stain I couldn’t wash away. With trembling hands, I pulled my clothes back on, desperate to leave the room, to put as much distance as I could between me and this hell. But as I reached for the door, Chris’s voice called after me, smug satisfaction lacing his words. “You’re not so bad, Camilla,” he taunted, turning to Tyson. “What do you think, future Alpha? Do you mind if I visit a little more often?” Tyson’s face was a mask of cold fury as he looked at me, his pride and ego burning from the knowledge that his mate was a lowly omega. He stared me down, a sneer twisting his lips as he spoke. “I, Tyson Woods of the Two Moons pack, reject you, Camilla, as my mate.” His words struck me like a blade. “Accept it or don’t. I don’t care.” **** Turning eighteen was supposed to change everything. I should have felt my wolf awaken, should have finally belonged to my pack. Instead, all I got was silence—the same empty, gnawing silence that’s haunted me since the day I realized I’d always be the runt, the omega no one cares about. When I met my mate, I thought it might finally be different. But Tyson Woods, my so-called fated mate, didn’t just reject me—he destroyed me, making it clear I was nothing but a stain on his pride. Running away was my only choice, even if it meant crossing into enemy territory. Now I’m trapped, claimed by Alpha Ryker—a man as cold and unyielding as the forest that swallowed me up. He’s dangerous, feared by every wolf on this side of the border,

"Look at this rejected omega!" My ex-husband sneered, and his pack members burst into laughter. Standing beside him was my younger sister, the one he cheated on me with. She clung to his arm, flaunting their bond for all to see. "She must be here to steal you from me," my sister spat in disbelief. "She's not here for any of that," my second chance mate’s voice boomed as he entered the room, towering over everyone in his sharp black suit. The crowd fell silent, astonished. "She's my wife and mate now. She's the new Luna Queen!" he declared, bowing to me with respect and love as he took my hand. The shock on my sister's and ex's faces spoke volumes. They never thought I'd rise above it all. But even I couldn't help but wonder, Wasn't he crippled just one night ago? --- Carena devoted years to her marriage, serving her arrogant alpha husband and in-laws after leaving her birth pack for her fated mate. But her loyalty was repaid with the ultimate betrayal: discovering her alpha husband had been sleeping with her 19-year-old sister. Hurt and rejected, Carena was thrown out of the pack, forced to return to her birth pack with nowhere else to turn. To be accepted back, she was told she must marry the crippled alpha King. She thought that would be the end of it. But one night, she woke up to a troubling sight, realizing she needed to uncover the secrets of her mysterious disabled alpha King before it’s too late.

After a tragic accident left Emily Yates without her memories, she fell in love with her savior, Justin Yates, unaware that he was hiding the truth and using her as a stand-in for his first love. For three long years, Emily poured everything into the relationship, hoping he would love her back. But on the day Justin proposed, he held his "one true love" in his arms and left Emily stranded on a foreign street, still expecting her to remain his secret mistress. Emily decided she would no longer be his stand-in. She ripped up the contract, kicked Justin out of her life, and hid her pregnancy before faking her death. When word of her death reached Justin, his world shattered. He fell gravely ill, barely clinging to life. Five years later, they crossed paths again. Emily had risen to fame as a renowned painter and jewelry designer, while Justin had swallowed his pride, now shamelessly chasing after her. “Emily, I know I messed up. Please, don’t leave me,” he begged, desperation in his voice. “Emily, can’t you just look at me, not other men? “Emily, I’ll be your model. Come over tonight and paint me, please? “Emily… Emily… My wife…” Emily’s fury boiled over. “Get lost! Who said I was your wife?” But Justin clung to her, refusing to let go, acting shamelessly. “I don’t care. You promised to marry me before, so that makes you my wife. “I don’t care! I don’t care!” he repeated.

Before our marking ceremony, my fiancé, Adrian Conner, insists on bringing his childhood sweetheart along on our trip—all because Flora Wooledge says she also wants to see the northern lights. He switches my first-class ticket to Flora's name. He says, "I'll fly first class with Flora. You can take connecting flights by land. The doctor said it's not good for a pregnant woman to stay at high altitude for too long." I don't cry or argue. Instead, I calmly push him toward Flora. He snorts. "You've finally learned to behave. You're not as clingy and troublesome as before." After he leaves, I quietly sign the abortion consent form at the hospital. Then, I book a ticket to the southern hemisphere. In my past life, I begged and clung to him, hoping to keep him with our pup. But on that trip, Flora was attacked by rogue wolves and torn apart in the snow. Adrian kept a calm facade. Yet on the night I was about to give birth, he dragged me back home and cut open my belly with his own hands. He stood there and listened as our pup's cries slowly faded away. He poured all his hatred onto me. He believed I caused Flora's death and that I ruined his chance to become the Conner family's heir. To him, I was nothing more than a sacrificial pawn. In this new life, when I step off the private jet, I see Adrian standing there with his eyes bloodshot. He stares at my belly and asks, "Where's the pup?" Before I can answer, his half-brother wraps an arm around my waist. "Adrian, show some respect to your sister-in-law."

3 years after getting married, I am still a virgin. "Lucien, let's get a divorce," I said in a peremptory tone that was long overdue, the most decisive farewell to this absurd marriage. We had been married for exactly three years—three years that, for me, were filled with nothing but endless loneliness and torment. For three years, the husband who should have stood by my side through every storm, Lucien Sullivan, had completely disappeared from my life as if he had never existed. He vanished without a trace, leaving me alone to endure this empty, desolate marriage. Today, I finally received his message: "I'm back. Come pick me up at the airport." When I read his words, my heart leapt with joy, and I raced to the airport, thinking that he finally understood my love and was coming back to me. But his cruelty was far worse than I could have ever imagined—he was accompanied by a pregnant woman, and that woman was Carla, my closest and most trusted friend. In that moment, all of my previous excitement, all my hope, and all of our shared laughter and tears turned into the sharpest of daggers, stabbing into my heart and leaving me gasping for air. He should know that it was his own hand that trampled our love underfoot, that his coldness and betrayal created this irreparable situation. But when he heard those words, he desperately clung to this broken, crumbling marriage, unwilling to let it end—almost as though doing so could rewind time and return everything to how it used to be. "Aurora, come back. I regret everything!" Regret? Those simple words stirred no emotion in me—only endless sadness and fury. My heart let out a frantic, desperate scream: It's too late for any of this!

I kept on running with Kay as we manoeuvred our way through the messy crowd. Kay pulled me through and we finally got out of the club. We couldn't take the main entrance because Yoshim's men were there. We were running through the dark alley, panting and gasping for air. Relief washed over me when I realised that I finally left that hell hole. We kept on running when I heard a gunshot. I immediately halted and felt a warm liquid trickling down my arm. I looked around and saw no wound, I glanced at Kay and my eyes widened. I immediately brought my hand to my mouth trying to suppress the scream that wanted to come out. Kay held his arm as he bled profusely, he groaned in pain and fell on his knees. “Oh my God, Kay are you alright? Ugh, what am I going to do.” I said while hyperventilating. I heard footsteps and looked up only to be met by those same devilish eyes. He wore a grin on his face. And to his left was Gail who clung to him like a barnacle. How did he even know I escaped? “Haha, I overheard your little conversation with the guard, so I told Yoshim.” She smiled while talking. “Gail, what the is wrong with you?” I said with anger and tears in my eyes. She shrugged her shoulders and her mouth curved into a smile. I pressed my hand on Kay's wound to stop the bleeding, he groaned in pain and I couldn't stop my tears. “I should've gotten rid of you a long time ago.” Yoshim said while pointing a gun to my head. I closed my eyes and waited for him to pull the trigger.

"I’ll make you beg and cry out my name, Father Hale. You won’t even be able to face the altar without remembering how you came apart on my tongue." Vincente terrifying voice admitted curling around the crucifix at my throat as his rough, unforgiving fingers, pinned my wrists above my head. His thigh shoved between mine, spreading me open, and the heavy press of his cock ground against the thin barrier of my underclothes. Mine answered before I could stop it, swelling shamefully through the thin clothes that clung like a second, traitorous skin. "Feel that?" he whispered, rolling slow, merciless circles that tore a broken sound from my throat. "That’s your body confessing louder than any prayer." I tried to twist away, but the movement only dragged my hips harder against him. "Please," I gasped, the word cracking open like a wound. "Vicente —God—" "God’s not here," he growled, his teeth grazing the shell of my ear. "Only me, you don't call God when you are about to sin." His hands slipped under me working on me. I bit my lip until I tasted blood, but the moan slipped out anyway, raw and ragged. "Say it. Say you want me," he demanded, his thumb circling the slick head until my vision blurred. "Beg me to stop. Or beg me not to." A sob tore free as my body arched, chasing the pleasure I hated myself for craving. "Please...Vicente—" He swallowed the broken plea with his mouth, teeth and tongue, sucking the faint copper of my own blood. When he pulled back, his eyes glittered like black glass. "Oh." He smiled, "You mean I can continue?" And my last hope to get him stop chattered.