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The man was a billionaire and could pay for anything he wanted as long as he could get it. I moved close to the books and tried reading some of their titles. They were mostly novels, and a little gasp fled my lips when I saw my favorite dark romance series, sitting on the shelf. The Ryan Rule by Sadie Kincaid. I loved the four books of that series so much, and although I’ve read them all, I wouldn’t mind re-reading them again. I didn’t have the money to purchase the books so I borrowed from a schoolmate. But now they were here.

Was it from a novel Paige had read before? "What? Do you also think I'm right?" Chris asked with a smile. Paige refuted, "You should read fewer messy novels." Who would have thought that someone like Chris, a CEO, actually liked reading all sorts of romance novels? Did he ever imagine himself in those novels, fantasizing about being the male lead? Chris said, "I don't read any messy novels. I read the painstaking works of the authors." Paige was at a loss for words. Did she also not read the authors' painstaking works? Such double standards.

I breathed, hanging my head low. "Your mate will love you even if you look like a mad woman. You are like a diamond covered in dirt. Remember how charming you were. Nothing changed. That beauty is still there, I swear!" Sienna, my wolf, soothed, and I felt like she sparked a light inside me. "Really?" I beamed. "Oh, yes, baby girl. Well, we might not even meet any mate out there, but the most important thing is to have a taste of freedom!" She squealed, and I laughed happily.

When he reached the site, all he could see was the debris on the surface of the sea and a scene of utter chaos. His right-hand man passed him a document. It was a set of divorce papers, with Zoe’s signature already on it. Victor gripped the document tightly, murmuring to himself, “Why…? Just then, the phone in his pocket rang with an email notification. The sender was Zoe, and the topic read, “It’s time to wake up from this five-year dream.” He clicked on the notification with trembling fingers. The body of the email read, “Victor, this is the final truth.” It came with three attachments.

"Natalie, get ready. Francis wants you at the club tonight." "No way," I said. "He insists. You're going." Nora stepped in, voice hushed as she said, "Mr. Collins will be there too. He said...it's your chance." I eyed her. "Chance for what?" "Your ticket out." She slipped me a note with an address and a time. "Stick to the plan." I gripped the note, nodding once. ... The Davis family's club was a playground for the high-stakes crowd, a haven for the allied families' vices.

the clerk said, snapping me back, “We can only exchange these for store credit at this time.” I nodded, taking the small slip of credit in my hand. Good enough. I wandered through the aisles, letting the quiet hum of the store pull me away from the storm in my mind. Romance. Billionaire drama. Steamy fantasies I’d never admit to anyone. That would do. I pulled a paperback off the shelf, “Penthouse Rules” by Lola Noir. I thumbed and flipped through it, letting the over-the-top, steamy paragraphs fill my head. It was just enough to put Dom’s audio aside for a wihile.

Juliet on the other hand felt the surge of tension and shiver building up in her. she could feel his cold hand traveling down the depth of her black jeans above the hollow between her legs. She felt like turning around and throwing him a kiss, but she stood still trying as much as possible to hide her feelings. Slowly Nick pushed his right hand into her silk underpants and began to rub the flesh of her pussy while his left hand found its way under her winter jacket into the base of her left breast.

“Fuck.” Rachel stared at her phone in the hotel room. Another lonely business trip, another boring night. The steamy romance novel she’d bought at the airport wasn’t helping the growing ache between her legs. It had been weeks since her breakup, and she was horny. She decided to head down to the hotel bar. Slipping into a cocktail dress and heels, she felt good as heads turned when she walked in. She ordered a glass of wine and soon a well-dressed man named Grant slid onto the stool beside her.

​She hit the search button, half hoping to find hidden scientific articles, government conspiracies, or at least news about a rare genetic disorder that caused sufferers to grow excessive hair and howl at the full moon. ​However, her search results were instead flooded with rows of digital book covers featuring shirtless, muscular men and fragile-looking women under the moonlight. ​They all pointed to links for online romance novels. ​Nichole scrolled down her screen, reading the titles inwardly with her eyebrows knitting closer together. ​"Bride for the Alpha" ​"The Wolf CEO's Human Mate" ​"Rejected by the Cruel Alpha" ​"Entangled in the Possessive Lycan's Forbidden Love"

Most of them were what I expected—books on strategy, history, a few on Italian mafia politics. And then, tucked on the bottom shelf, almost hidden— "You weren't kidding about these?" I pulled one out, raising an eyebrow. "Really?" "Put that back." "The Duke's Dangerous Desire," I read aloud, grinning. "A Rake's Redemption. The Highlander's Captive Bride—" "Jameson." Her voice was sharp, but I could hear the embarrassment underneath. "Put them back." "I'm not judging," I said, turning to face her. "I'm just surprised. You kill people for a living, but you read romance novels?"