Diary About Myself

Homeless and desperate to get off the streets, Quinn Maree is lured to an underground auction where she sells her virginity to the highest bidder. To everyone's surprise the notoriously dangerous and devastatingly handsome crime boss, Troy Bailey, makes an outrageous bid for her virginity. Troy Bailey is not what he appears to be. The man who bought Quinn is a Lycan Prince. A werewolf forged in blood and magic, and he has big plans for her. ** Hm,”Troy grunted and promptly got up, returning to his perch on the windowsill. "I won't force myself on you. Honestly, Quinn, I'd rather jerk off than f-ck you.” I didn't know if I should be insulted or relieved. "If you're just going to lie there, a half-dead receptacle for my cum, masturbation would be more enjoyable anyway. I'd probably be more enthusiastic about it than you are." I blushed at his brutally straightforward, and painfully honest words. "I will wait until you submit willingly and give yourself to me freely...because you want to, not because I paid you.” **

On the night my dad kicked me out, I drank too much and slept with my “brother” It was a one night mistake. Yet, he proposed and claimed me as his mate, his luna. When I woke up, my mom's body was cold. The color was drained from her half-opened eyes, and I could see no signs of life. My father told me that she purposely drank poison to kill herself. But that was a lie. My mother would never kill herself; she would never leave me. That night imprisoned me. - “It wasn’t a mistake,” “What are you talking about, Jonathan?” I asked him. “Arina, you are my mate. You were born to be my luna,” he said. His face showed no signs of humor. “I wasn’t born to be anybody’s luna,” I shot back. “Arina, I love you…” he spoke softly, still staring into my eyes. I could feel the wolf in me stirring; something that I had never felt before. She was awakening; the fire that burned so deep inside of me was beginning to flare. “Love?” I heard myself saying. “There’s no such thing as love…” After everything I knew about “love”, what my mother went through when she married my father, love didn’t exist. “Give me a chance to prove you wrong. Marry me.”

Do I have two wolves inside of me? Check. Smokin' hot two fated mates? Double check. Except they despise each other more than anyone hates Mondays. Dating one means war with the other. But the chemistry? It's off the freaking charts with both. Here's the kicker: my dual wolf curse turns me into a male at night and a female during the day. Reason is; apparently, my Umbra Wolf is male and my Luna Wolf is female. Eighteen is when they are fully awakened and also when shit gets real. Worse, no one told me about this until I turned eighteen and found out myself! A psycho rogue is after me too, and the only way to avoid him is to find my fated mate at the mating ceremony which I am mandated to attend by the Alpha council because of a scandal I accidentally caused. How does one pick between her stepbrother and his enemy? Especially when one is cruel and the other is chillingly creepy. Catch me dodging love triangles, fighting destiny, and maybe getting my heart broken by two hotties at the same time. P.S. If you're into dark romance, reverse harem, suspense that'll keep you guessing, and enough spice to heat up your phone, then buckle up, ‘cause Nimue La Key and her two mates are about to blow your mind.

My best friend asked me to conduct a blood test on her before she got married to the richest man in the city. That was how I found out that she had AIDS. Due to patient confidentiality and her claim that her fiance would not mind, I did not tell him about her diagnosis. Later on, he contracted AIDS as well. When this happened, my best friend went online and pointed the finger at me. “Maya Sullivan intentionally kept the results of my blood test a secret. That’s why my husband got AIDS. It’s all her fault!” Even my boyfriend added fuel to the fire. “This isn’t the first time Maya has set Pearl up. She only got AIDS because Maya used an infected needle to take her blood sample!” No matter how much I insisted otherwise, everyone kept hounding me about it. To avoid the fallout, I was forced to move myself and my parents to another city to start fresh. However, in a fit of rage, Pearl’s husband crashed into our car and killed all of us. He was later sentenced to death, so Pearl inherited all of his assets. She then lived in luxury with my boyfriend. When I opened my eyes again, I discovered that I had gone back in time. It was the day that Pearl had undergone her health checkup.

​It was a matter of benefit: I had to stop the CEO's wedding. ​It was a matter of reputation: I had to become the CEO's wife. ​For my heart's sake, I must hide my son and myself from his father, the CEO, while I execute my revenge

Adrian Quirrel, the heir to the Quirrel family, had been in poor health since childhood. Guided by the old superstition that marriage could restore his health, his family had taken in four young women, with only one to be chosen as his bride. On the selection day, they invited a renowned astrologer to read our birth charts. As soon as he said I carried a healing energy and could bear healthy heirs, the Quirrels decided on the spot that I would be Adrian's bride. Three months later, his health miraculously improved, and I soon found myself pregnant with twins—a boy and a girl. The family elders were ecstatic and even promised that my son would become the Quirrels' future heir. But on the night of the christening, Adrian locked me and the babies in the basement. I broke down and demanded an explanation. He sneered and replied, "If it weren't for your so-called 'healing energy,' Emily would've been my wife. "She wouldn't have jumped to her death at such a young age if she hadn't been pushed to that point. Tonight, I want you and your children to accompany her in death." He grabbed a nearby iron rod and savagely brought it down onto our babies. I threw myself over the babies, but Adrian kicked me aside. Blood splattered across the walls and floor, and my babies' breathing gradually weakened until it stopped. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back on the day Adrian chose his bride.

"I didn’t know I was marrying two people. He wore the suit, but she pulled the strings. The day I walked down the aisle, eyes locked with the man I loved, I thought I had found peace. I thought I was finally leaving behind the noise of my childhood, the ache of loneliness, and the years I spent praying for a love that would choose me, only me. But no one told me that some men never truly leave their mothers. They marry, yes,but their hearts remain tangled in an invisible umbilical cord, one that stretches past vows, past bedrooms, past boundaries. I moved into our new home, only to find that the walls had ears, hers. We lived in separate flats, but it never truly felt like my space. My marriage was a room she walked into, uninvited but ever present. Her opinions dripped into our arguments, her eyes followed me from behind lace curtains, and her voice echoed in decisions that should have belonged to me and my husband. At first, I kept quiet. I told myself it was cultural. Respect. Family. Then I told myself it was temporary. Then I stopped telling myself anything at all, because nothing I said made a difference. This is not a story of hate. It’s a story of love, tested by bloodlines, boundaries, and a battle I never asked to fight. This is my truth. The marriage I thought was mine. The home that never really felt like home. And the rules I never agreed to, but had to live by, simply because… I was under her roof".

Why have one brother when I can have all three? “Is this what you do every time we’re not here?' he asks. “You get yourself off like this?” I shake my head, fucking myself on the dildo. “No. No, it’s just today,” I gasp out. “I just… needed it.” Luke’s jaw clenches. “I’ve heard you. At night.” My stomach flips. I thought I was being quiet, but I guess not quiet enough. “Luke—” I didn’t mean to tell my entire family that I’m dating my ex’s three older brothers…But to be fair, the lie wasn’t even my fault. When my ex asked if I’d be bringing a plus-one to his holiday wedding (to my sister, by the way–don’t even get me started about that). I lied. I probably should’ve been prepared for followup questions, but when my ex asked who I’m dating, I drew a complete blank. That’s when his three gorgeous older brothers spoke up… at the same time. Now my family thinks I’m dating all three of them, Elijah, Luke, and Benedict. To make things even more complicated, they don’t seem to get along at all, and I may have given my v-card to Elijah six years ago before he ghosted me after one night. My life is chaotic enough as it is, trying to keep my tiny bakery afloat during the Christmas rush. The last thing I need is all three brothers coming after me. This is all supposed to be fake… even if the tension between us feels alarmingly real.I already fell for one Montgomery brother and got my heart broken. What would happen if I dare to let myself fall for three?

My fiance, Henry Gordon, was two hours late to our vows on our wedding day. Just as he was catching his breath and about to say ‘I do’, he received a call from his secretary, Yvonne Luther. After hanging up, he looked at me apologetically. “Honey, my useless team can’t handle the personnel appointment of the financial team on their own. They’re insisting that I head back! I’ll make it up to you with another wedding later on.” I told him that I understood though I felt disappointed, because he was at a critical stage in his career. However, the moment he left without hesitation, I tossed the ring on my finger into the venue’s flower bed and announced to everyone that the wedding was cancelled. I had to see for myself who would ask Henry, a mere minority shareholder, to make such a significant decision without consulting me, the chairperson. He did not know that just a few hours earlier, I had taken back the ‘gift’ I gave him and reclaimed my position as the company’s chairperson.

So this is how the mate bond feels. A rush of energy, a pull like gravity tightening around us, and an almost maddening awareness of the other person. I wasn’t about to let it sway me though. Sure, the man in front of me is ridiculously perfect, but I wasn’t some love-struck fool who’d drop everything at the first spark of fate. I had a life, plans, and a fiancé waiting for me upstairs. I raised an eyebrow, forcing myself to stay calm even as my heart raced. “Take a number and get in line, sweetheart,” I said coolly, flashing the engagement ring on my finger in front of his gray eyes. “I’m otherwise occupied right now.” …Five years later, when I pushed the door open, my mate remained motionless on a leather couch, his piercing gaze boring into me with a cold detachment that sent shivers down my spine. He leaned back, the casualness of the gesture at odds with the intensity in his eyes. His arms rested lazily on the backrest, but there was nothing relaxed about him. His body was coiled tight, like a predator ready to pounce, and the air between us crackled with tension. “Is my number finally up?” he asks, his tone laced with bitter amusement. “My dear mate.” The words sting, but I can’t deny the truth in them. He is my last chance.