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From a stall in the office restroom, I overhear someone badmouthing me. Henry Fielder, the intern I've been mentoring for three months, grumbles, "The guy's got zero people skills. He's a total fossil, like a robot stuck in one mode." I'm about to push the door open and jump in when someone laughs and piles on. "The paperwork is incomplete. The receipts aren't compliant. I can't reimburse it without a manager's signature. We could recite his canned empathy lines in our sleep!" Once they're gone, I quietly head back to my office. Later, Henry drops a thick stack of expense reports onto my desk. "Quit waving the rulebook and rejecting everyone's reimbursements." I skim the fake receipts, and for once, I don't call him out. Instead, I give a thin smile and say, "I have a headache. I can't make out the words."

My husband’s childhood sweetheart pushed me off the cruise ship on purpose when she found out I was pregnant. I did not scream for help. Instead, I held onto my mother-in-law, who had fallen in too, and fought to survive. In my last life, I had screamed for help in the sea. My husband jumped in with others and saved both me and his mother. But his beloved ex, stained with blood, attracted a shark and was torn apart in the water. After she died, my husband said she deserved it for pushing me. He treated me with care and guilt, acting like the perfect husband. But when the baby was born, he killed him. "It is your fault, you wretch. I lost the woman I loved because of you. Now it is your turn to feel that pain!” I used everything I had left to drag him to death with me. When I opened my eyes again, I was back in the ocean—right before it all happened.

In my third month of employment, I realized that my colleagues were calling me an old geezer behind my back. This nickname came from Wanda Stewart’s arrogant and ambitious assistant. I had hit the age of 32, but was still clinging onto the last vestiges of hope of marriage after eight long years of our relationship. I asked Wanda, “Do you know that your subordinates call me an old geezer?” She said without batting an eyelid, “That’s just the way Samuel is. He’s just a straight-talker and he’s just kidding. You’re already 32, are you seriously fussing about this?” She then chuckled, “You two are really alike.” My heart turned cold. Turns out that eight years of my youth were nothing but a joke to her. I turned to leave, resigning from my post and blocking her. Yet, the woman who was always so calm and cool started panicking. “Jansen Graham, please come back to me.”

⚠️ WARNING ⚠️ DARK ROMANCE AND MATURED CONTENT. "This is kidnapping," my voice cracked as I followed him. "You can't keep me here." "I think I can," he chuckled, the sound low and dangerous. He draped his coat over the kitchen counter, then turned back to me. "And that's what I plan on doing." A violent shudder ran through me. He meant it. "It won't be long before someone realises I am missing," I said, hoping that logic would reach him. "And come looking for me." His smirk deepened. "Who will?" Once a predator locks onto its prey, there's no letting go! A woman craving the attention of her husband runs into the caporegime of the Kingston family, a crime family that has ruled the underground for years. She knows he is bad news. She knows she should flee, but she ruins her marriage when she gives into his temptation. And now he never plans on letting her go.

“Fuck!” She finally said, still holding onto him. Don smirked. He was enjoying every bit of it and was not planning to stop anytime soon. He pulled out his fingers, gave her pûssy a smack before thrusting it in again and increasing the strokes, not minding her pleas. *** Giulia (Julia) Bianchi, a stunning and daring lady, has been used as collateral to repay her father's debt to a Mafia leader. She has to serve him and do everything he asks of her. Donatello (Don) Rossini reigns supreme as the merciless mafia lord, his dominance rivaled only by his new servant, Julia. They soon became entangled in a complex game of desire and seduction. Julia is now trapped in a world of deception and danger, one where the thin line between love and loyalty grows weak. As she attempts to escape in hopes for survival, she is forced to face one dark truth: Don's obsession with her has the potential to either keep her safe or destroy her.

She gave him three years of her life, but he gave her divorce papers in return. ****** Grace Whitlock had always loved Ethan Calder, the hotshot billionaire and her sister's fiance. When her sister escapes right on the wedding day, Grace steps in her place, becoming Ethan's wife. She gives him three precious years of her life, only for him to deliver the divorce papers right after her sister returns. After her trust shatters and she loses everything she holds dear, she vows to avenge herself against her ex-husband and her scheming sister. In her quest for revenge, she comes across another man who ignites a passion in her veins that leaves her breathless and squirming. What happens when Ethan finds out that his wife is moving onto another hotshot faster than a speed of light? Will he let her go or will he hold her in for eternity?

Her sixteenth birthday became her worst nightmare. The instant the clock struck twelve, all hell let loose and her life flipped into jeopardy. She was to lose her virginity that same day or welcome death with full arms. The school's rebel, Jordan Hill, doesn't believe in love, he thinks all romcoms are cringe and so are his parents whom he couldn't find even more pathetic when they brought fought a ridiculous offer onto his plate. Turns out it was a lottery, after all, a chance to take the prime Minister's daughter virginity is an opportunity that comes in a lifetime. But why is it that after that one boring night, his soul never departed from her? Wanting no more than to avoid Jordan like a total plague, she succeeded but only for a year. She unfortunately caught his attention again and this time, Jordan is sure to make the rest of her school years miserable than it already was. She refuses to leave, he refuses to back down.

My mother sent me to Chicago to marry Marco Ricci. A power move. One meant to cement our family’s control of the city. After all, my grandfather was the one who put the Riccis on the map. They owed us. They were supposed to treat me like royalty. I went to the fanciest jeweler in Chicago to buy my fiancé a gift. But some broad snatched it right from me. Before I could move, the store manager was fawning all over her. “Miss Bianca! A gift from Mr. Ricci? It’s perfect on you!” Marco? My fiancé? So this was his whore. She slid the sapphire ring onto her finger and shot me a look of disgust. “Who the hell do you think you are, bitch? Trying to take what’s mine?” I didn't even look at her. I just called Marco. "Your whore has something of mine. You have three minutes. Get down to the jeweler and handle her."

Rosa never imagined that her quiet, ordinary life would be turned upside down by colliding with a billionaire. Literally. After an unexpected incident, Alexander Wade, icy CEO and heir to a vast company, suggests a contract marriage to fulfill a clause in his grandfather’s will, she agrees reluctantly as it was the only hope she could find. To Alexander, it was simple: marry, inherit, move on. But nothing about Rosa is simple. With every stolen glance and every unexpected moment, the line between pretend and reality begins to blur. Suddenly, it’s not just about signatures and legalities. It’s about feelings he never intended to feel. But when his glamorous ex, Daphne, returns and his manipulative mother schemes to tear them apart, Rosa and Alexander's fragile connection is tested. Secrets resurface, betrayal cuts deep, and love is no longer enough on its own. Now, Alexander must make a choice; hold onto the past he's always known… or fight for the woman who unexpectedly stole his heart.

I was born with a strange condition. I couldn't recognize faces and could only identify people by their clothes. Vincent Lancaster, my boyfriend, never minded. He said it didn't change the way he loved me. That was, until our wedding day. He answered a phone call. His childhood friend, Grace Langley, was in labor, life hanging by a thread, and she demanded he come immediately. My voice shook with despair. "Vincent! If you drive away now, we'll never be husband and wife!" But he left anyway, not looking back. Grace had always loved seeing him in white, so he threw aside the black suit I had sewn for him with my own hands and changed into white. A year later, Vincent returned. By then, my belly was swollen with life, and I was holding onto another man while hosting a baby shower. And the man wore the black suit Vincent had thrown away. Vincent went mad, claiming he was my husband, but no one believed him.