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At twenty-one, Ashley Knowles is forced into an arranged lavender marriage with the most feared biker president in California. Twenty-four hours later, she’s a widow. Thrust into the ruthless world of the Sons of Chaos Motorcycle Club, Ashley inherits an empire of oil rigs, ranches, illegal dealings, and blood-soaked power she never wanted. But the club brothers don’t bow to outsiders—especially not a girl who knows nothing about their world. Three dangerous men circle her like wolves: Matt —her dead sister’s fiancé blames Ashley for the death of his fiancée and wants brutal personal revenge. He’ll break her body to heal his grief. Bran —her scarred brother-in-law craves slow, psychological payback for the high-school sin that scarred him forever and ruined his life. He’ll take her body piece by piece until there’s nothing left. Ripper —the Vice President, protects her with fierce loyalty no one understands… but his devotion comes with secrets that could destroy them all. Caught between these three men, Ashley must find a way to protect herself,because the Sons of Chaos don’t share. CONTENT WARNING: This story is strongly 18+ It delves into dark romance themes such as obsession, lust and crime. While this is a beautiful love story, readers discretion is advised.

When Ethan Reed shoves divorce papers across the anniversary dinner Mia Thompson spent hours preparing, he believes he's trading up — swapping his quiet schoolteacher wife for her glamorous best friend and the "power couple" image his investors demand. What he doesn't know: the woman he's throwing away funded his entire empire with her dead parents' life insurance money — and still owns 45% of the company he just sold for $25 million. For six years, Mia paid his loans, wrote his pitch decks, and worked two jobs while he coded his dreams into reality. She loved him enough to carry his child alone for eight weeks, waiting for the perfect moment to tell him. That moment came in a doorway — divorce papers in one hand, her best friend smirking behind him in a red dress. She signed. She walked out. She collapsed in a hospital parking lot and lost the baby no one knew existed. Some men burn down the wrong house. Some women have to lose everything before they realize they were holding the match the whole time. And some betrayals come with a price tag — exactly $25 million, plus interest.

My stomach flared up again after pulling an all-nighter at work, so I asked my fiancee to go home and grab my medicine. Two hours later, she finally came back, but she was empty-handed. "Where's the medicine?" I asked weakly. "Oh, I forgot. Chris called last minute and said he had a fever, so I went to bring him some fever meds first." After she said that, she dialed a number on her phone and asked worriedly, "Are you feeling any better now?" On the other end of the line was the childhood friend she always talked about. At that moment, I calmly pulled the IV needle out of my hand and told her we were done. She frowned. "Just because I went to take care of Chris first?" "I was on an IV drip. He just has a common cold." I said each word slowly. "Can you be a little more mature?" she asked with a look of disappointment on her face. "Fine. If that's how you feel, then whatever." She thought it was just an ordinary argument. She had no idea that the moment she chose to forget the medicine that could've saved me, our relationship had already reached a point of no return.

Flash Marriage with My Stoic Boss: Cold in Public, Passionate in Private Blurb Nora Ward has two rules for marriage: low-maintenance and zero drama. As a chief cardiology resident running on coffee and four hours of sleep, she doesn't have time for romance. A blind date gone wrong lands her at the wrong table with the right man — Adrian Cross, a cold, brutally efficient cardiothoracic surgeon just back from the US. They size each other up over iced coffee. Same schedule. Same pragmatism. Same need for a spouse who stays out of the way. Thirty minutes later, they leave the courthouse with a marriage certificate and no intention of ever seeing each other outside a hospital. Problem is — they work at the same hospital. And Adrian Cross just happens to be her department's newly appointed deputy chair. Now she has to face him at morning rounds, pretend he's a stranger, and ignore the way his voice drops an octave when he says "Dr. Ward" — professional, distant, infuriating. Rules are easy to make. Harder to keep when your stoic husband corners you in the on-call room after midnight and proves he's anything but cold. This is why you don't flash-marry your boss.

Riccardo Salvatore Armani is a man with a great body and brilliant mind who can be compared to a Greek god but with the heart of Lucifer. Yes, with both devilish and lovable hearts. Everyone conquered his devilish heart and none conquered his lovable heart, or yet… With no parents, no helpers, no bodyguards, no friends, no past, and no girls around, he is living a robotic life with the only character of yelling at people and killing ruthlessly everyone who comes in his way. Ishita Kapoor is a girl with a goddess physique, an Angel heart, and a brilliant and stupid brain at the same time. Having everyone around her, she is living a best yet worst life because of society's pressure on her. Everyone who sees her from the outside will see her best life but only when those who get to see under her always-covered body, will come to know her true life. Having everything and everyone doesn’t help her in her state.But, when a simple dare locked these two people in 2000sq. feet for 24 hours, he thought that this was just a day and it wouldn’t change his life and she thought she successfully completed her dare with the mystic man but they both didn’t know that there was more on their way which would change their life completely. MAFIA'S NOT SO INNOCENT GIRL is created by Priya Amour, an eGlobal Creative Publishing signed author.

On the night of my 30th birthday, I waited until the early hours of the morning, but my husband, Theodore Hawk never showed up. Instead, I came across an Instagram post from his childhood sweetheart, Emily Gallagher. [What romantic is not the starry night, it is having you by my side.] In the picture, she was wearing a delicate, sky-blue camisole that revealed just enough to charm and seduce. A man stood close behind her, his hand firmly gripping her waist. The scene was set in the seaside villa that Theodore had gifted her, their figures intimately entwined under the soft glow of the night. Someone had commented beneath the post: [I can’t stand you two being this lovey-dovey all the time! Just get married already!] Emily had responded with a shy-face emoji. I had just liked the post when Theodore, who I had failed to reach all night, blew up my phone with calls. "Are you out of your mind, Camilla? Emi and I grew up together! If we wanted to be together, we would’ve done so long ago! Why are you being so petty?" Looking at how Theodore gently held her in his arms, comforting her, I realized something. Letting go of someone you’ve loved for seven years... can take only a moment.

“Coming back after just leaving a few hours ago with no injury on you, I guess you must have chicken out” his mocking voice said making me stop in my tracks, turning around. “Seems you have something against me, elder” I said, looking at him. “I have nothing against you, girl. I have something against the creature living rent free inside of you” he said. Guess someone is blunt today. “What happened to the creature inside of me?” I asked, looking at him calmly. “They are vile, unfit and too weak to stand against a demon like us” he spat at me. “And what is your solution, elder?” I asked. “Leave the king and go back to where you came from, we don’t want you here. Our king deserves better” he said, glaring at me hatefully. Hated for being a wolf Being abused physically and mentally by a demon who has an unhealthy obsession over her mate Trying to prove herself to her mate’s kingdom while trying to protect her loved one’s, Lillian definitely have enough on her plate, will she prove herself she is not the names she is being called or will a bigger threat, not only claim her life but the one’s around her and the throne?

In my previous life, I practically dragged my useless childhood sweetheart to Harvard with me. My academic record was top-notch, and I spent three years tutoring him. I asked my father to donate a library to Harvard University, ensuring that they would extend an additional offer of admission to Felix. Finally—when he rejected the offer in favor of taking a gap year to go work in Australia with the girl he was infatuated with—I raised such a massive scene that I ultimately forced him to go to Harvard with me. After graduation, we got married. The natural ending. He built a tech empire and made me the wife of the richest man in the country. One regret. He died too young. Didn't leave me a single word at the end. Just went. And I — I inherited his billions, and lived comfortably all the way to eighty-eight. But when I died, I saw his soul. His eyes were blood-red. "You forced me onto this path. You took me from the only woman I ever loved. I died with regret. Pray we never meet again in the next life." ...What the fuck? He'd been in that much pain? And I was the only one — happily riding it out? Captions drifted across my vision. [Lmao — how thick is this side character's skin?] [Male lead dies young in agony, she breezes through to 88 as the richest widow in the country.] [The girl he actually loved was the one who flunked her SATs and ran off backpacking, hello???] [They both died young, missed each other, and the side character had the time of her life.] Even I felt bad. When I opened my eyes, I was back — standing in that basement he'd sworn would be his life of freedom, on the day he was supposed to reject his Harvard offer. This time, I am not stopping him from going to Australia.

I died on the day I won the Global Medical Doctorate Award. Fresh from celebrating the sixteenth birthday of my younger sister, my parents, brother, and my fiancé finally returned home, but it was three hours after my death. My family photos were beaming with happiness on social media, while I laid in the suffocating basement drenched in blood. Before I died, I had struggled to slide my tongue across my phone screen in a desperate attempt to call for help. My parents and brother had blocked my number. Only my fiancé answered my call. The moment his voice came through, he snapped, "Winona, Winnie's sixteenth birthday is important. Stop trying to hijack attention with your pathetic excuses. Enough with the theatrics!" It murdered my last spark of survival. In that electronic death rattle, my heart flatlined. The 100th time they chose her. The 100th time they abandoned me for her. But it was also the last time. They thought I had ran way to get their attention again, and that if they taught me a harsh lesson, I would come crawling back pathetically. But not this time. Because I didn't leave home. I had been lying in the basement of my house.

To save my family, I was dying of silver poisoning, my fiancé Marcus, the Alpha who had promised to never abandon me, now wanted to harvest my healthy kidney for my parents' adopted daughter, Celeste. Nobody cares if I live or die So I refused the conservative treatment plan. I injected myself with the witch's life potion. The price? In 72 hours, I would die from complete organ failure. In those three days, I gave my private healing center—the one I'd built with my own hands—to Celeste. Mom and Dad beamed with joy. "Good girl, you've finally grown up. You're taking care of your sister now." Marcus wanted to postpone our wedding to care for Celeste. I accepted it calmly. He praised me for finally being understanding. I even gave up my position as the pack's chief healer to Celeste. My parents and Marcus were so excited they planned to throw her a grand celebration ball. They invited every important person with status in the pack to honor her new role. I was just curious about one thing. After I died, would they shed a single tear for me?