Enhypen Highway 1009

There's a ten-car collision on the highway, and I'm trapped in one of ten. For some reason, none of the ambulances can get to us. I desperately call my boyfriend to ask for help. I expect him to immediately come to my rescue, but he merely snaps at me. "Yvette didn't even make a sound when she sliced her finger. Couldn't you have just dodged when the accident happened? You're not crippled or anything! Stop being so childish at your age!" He doesn't want me to disturb him anymore, so he blocks my number. Fortunately, a kind soul saves me and takes me to the hospital. I survive the ordeal. When I leave the hospital, I see a breaking news report on the screen in the lobby. "Love exists in the world! Mr. Fenton spends a fortune to gather the city's ambulances to save his true love when she slices her finger!" The news report makes my heart ache. I pull out the ring I was going to use for my proposal and throw it away without hesitation. Henry Fenton and I have been together for 14 years, but I don't want the relationship anymore.

On our Christmas break road trip, my cousin Felix Lloyd spotted some high-powered speakers at a highway rest stop. He had to have them—said he wanted to "blast it." "It's Christmas. We finally get to see everyone! We need some vibe!" My wife, Lana Ramsey, smiled and helped him pay. "Young people have energy. They know how to enjoy life." I yanked the power cord out. "Those aren't for regular cars. This is an EV. Overload it, and the whole system fries. Then what—just stuck in the middle of nowhere?" Lana's parents, Vincent and Donelia, booed me, calling me a buzzkill. Felix cranked the volume all the way up. Lana glared at me. "Say one more word and get out. I'll drive." Later, the speakers fried the battery system. We were stranded in total darkness on a rough mountain road. They finished the last of the food, then shoved me out to "go find help." I slipped, rolled down the slope, and died. When I opened my eyes, I was back—right when Felix jammed the speaker plug into the charging port. I grabbed a few more subwoofers and handed them over. "One isn't enough. Add more. That's how you really crank it."

I've been caught in a relationship with a divorced man for eight years. We've broken up and reconciled too many times to count. In the end, I tallied ninety-four breakups and five divorces between us. One more would make it an even hundred, but I'm too exhausted to continue this cycle. The first breakup happened when I was giving him my virginity. Halfway through, his ex-wife called asking him to pick up some bread, and he simply left. The fifth breakup occurred when he abandoned me, newly pregnant, on the highway to comfort his ex-wife who was having complications with her own pregnancy. I ended up in a car accident and miscarried. He arrived at the hospital with his clothes disheveled. Despite all the pain he caused me, I could never bring myself to truly leave him. Our most recent divorce happened for an equally absurd reason. His ex-wife and their child were participating in a family reality TV show that required them to appear as a complete family unit. To protect his ex-wife's public image, he divorced me yet again. When filming wrapped, he called to discuss remarrying. This time I refused, because I'm going to marry someone else.

For five years, I have seen Leo Belmonte—the Don’s heir—as the only light in my life. On the day of my wedding dress fitting, he smiled and told me I was only a stand-in for his untouchable first love, Mia. Now that the real thing was back, I was supposed to step aside—go underground, follow my mother's path, and be somebody's mistress like she had been. The bridal fastenings cut my palms bloody, and all he cared about was the dress. His precious Mia ran me down on the highway in her car, and he warned me not to call the police—held my mother's ashes over my head to keep me in line. When the whole internet was calling me a homewrecker, it was him who nailed me to the pillar of shame with his own hands. The night I finally gave up, I boarded the Deluca family's private helicopter. That was when they learned the truth—I was no homeless bastard daughter. I was the only heir the most powerful Don in Europe had been searching for all these years. Once, I saw him as my light. Now he kneels at my feet and begs forgiveness, and all I feel is disgust. One day soon, I would stand at the top of the underworld—somewhere he could never reach again.

Eight years into marriage, and Fabian's mom finally gave me and my son her stamp of approval. Invited us to spend Christmas in his hometown. My son—Luca--and I were hyped. We picked out a gift for her and hit the road with Fabian. Right as we pulled into the village, Fabian's old friend called—crying, claiming she'd crashed her car. Fabian panicked. Left me and Luca in some random snowy mountain town and sped off. It was pitch black. Snow dumping down. Then Luca screamed. He'd stepped on a trap and dropped into a pit. Blood everywhere. I called Fabian, totally panicked. He goes, "Stella, Roxana's in a wreck. I need to be with her. Stop making everything a competition." Then he hung up. Blocked me. No time to fall apart. I wiped my face, called an ambulance. Too far out. By the time they got there, Luca was already gone. Cold. Broken. Gone. I held him and screamed until my lungs gave out. Meanwhile, Roxana's posting in the social media. All smiles in Fabian's arms. His face soft. Loving. [Highway jam turned into truth or dare. One word—"accident"—and he came flying. So happy.] I exhaled. Tagged Fabian. [Let's get a divorce.] This joke of a marriage should've ended forever ago.

⚠️ WARNING: 18+ READERS ONLY ⚠️ This book is an erotica collection containing 20 different stories filled with explicit themes, graphic sexual content, power dynamics, and mature situations. Proceed with caution. If you are sensitive to dark romance, revenge plots, or intense erotic scenes, this collection may not be suitable for you. Reader discretion is strongly advised. Blurb Sofia’s life shatters in a single click. The only man she ever trusted betrays her in the cruelest way possible — leaking her most intimate photos into the university group chat and auctioning the rest for money. Humiliated. Broken. Burning with rage. On her way to confront him, Sofia steps blindly into the highway — not caring whether she lives or dies. A black G-Wagon stops inches away from her. And the man who steps out isn’t just dangerous. He’s powerful. Tattooed. Cold. Untouchable. And he’s Tristan’s father. When his dark eyes lock onto hers, something shifts. The air thickens. His hand finds her waist. His voice drops to a husky warning. Sofia should walk away. Instead, she makes a decision that will change everything. If Tristan wants to ruin her life… She’ll ruin his from the inside. And what better weapon than the one man he fears? Don’t forget to drop your comments as you read — your feedback means everything.

From the moment Juno Genovese could understand right from wrong, her life was a shadowed existence. Born into the great Genovese dynasty as a twin, she was deemed unimportant, her existence measured solely in service to her younger brother's life and future. Her identity, forged to masquerade as her brother, living as his perfect stand-in, preparing him for his eventual rise as the 'heir' to their family's empire. But fate had other plans. A sudden attack ravaged the world she had known, the walls of the carefully constructed world her parents thrust her into, came crumbling around her. Torn from the hands of her family and thrust into a life-changing situation. Mistaken for the heir apparent, Juno found herself in the clutches of Vito Costello, the enigmatic and fiercely intelligent heir to the rival Costello Conglomerate. Trapped in a web of intrigue and danger, Juno found herself deciding between loyalty to her family and the irresistible pull of a forbidden connection with Vito. And as her bond with Vito deepened, Juno discovered not only her own strength and stability, but also the murky depths of the world she had been thrust into. Betrayal lurked in every corner, secrets whispered like poison, and the thin line between ally and foe blurred more each day. In this immersing tale of deception, hearts, and redemption, Juno Genovese takes the highway as she fights for her freedom, identity, and finally, her own future.

I’d been in love with Cassian Cross—my brother’s best friend, the one and only mafia boss in the NYC—for as long as I could remember. On the night of my twentieth birthday, my brother promised me a surprise. I didn’t expect that surprise to be a very drunk, very kissable Cassian. One reckless night. One baby boy. Cassian agreed to marry me after giving birth. But the day I gave birth to Leo, Cassian said nothing. He just packed up and vanished to France for nearly five years. Then he returned with Alessia. His first love. And when she saw Leo and me, she ran away and disappeared. After that, Cassian never left my side. Like he was trying to be the man I needed all along, that we were finally going to have our chance. But fairytales are lies wrapped in pretty paper. On Leo’s sixth birthday, we were driving to dinner. The brakes failed. The car spun onto the highway, flames licking at the engine. Cassian got out. And then he locked the door. “If it weren’t for you, Alessia would still be by my side. Now? It’s your turn to suffer.” It wasn’t until that moment I understood—Cassian had never loved me. When I opened my eyes again, I was back at my twenties birthday. Cassian was in my bed, exactly where I’d left him in the past. This time, I didn’t hesitate. I ran. And on my way out, I made the call I should’ve made the first time. To Alessia.

A single misstep, and the consequences were severe. I am Moxie Guerra, known to all who know me as a devil with the face of an angel. At the age of seventeen, I am a woman with high standards in every aspect of life. I insist on the best food, the most luxurious clothing, and when it comes to men, they must be extraordinarily wealthy, attractive, and well-known. Born to my father's mistress, who passed away after my birth, I am scorned by my father's second family. As the daughter of a mafia boss, I was brought up in a perilous environment. No one perceived me as patient or kind. Instead, I was feared, much like my father, which was my Achilles' heel. However, when I discovered that my father had arranged my marriage to the richest son in the country without my approval, my rebellious streak surfaced. I wasn't just the daughter of a mafia boss for appearances. I was as obstinate and egocentric as my father. I decided to flee to a place where my father would least expect me to be. I stopped at the nearest bar for some liquid courage before driving to my mother's hometown. It was a humble province, filled with trees and dirt roads, a stark contrast to my opulent lifestyle. But my survival was more crucial than my sophisticated tastes. However, my car broke down in the middle of a vast highway on the way there. Despite being inebriated, I managed to survive. A man in a black Hummer arrived and came to my aid. His smile was menacing and disconcerting.

Four years ago, I committed the ultimate sin. I almost killed my adoptive mother, and for that, I was sentenced to a living hell. My father caged my wolf, stripped my dignity, and bartered me off like livestock to a ruthless CEO to seal a blood alliance. I didn't fight. I didn't scream. I quietly accepted the chains and walked away from the fated mate bond I shared with my step-brother. Damon Enzo Vitale was my first heartbreak—the man I once loved, and the man who truly hated me. Now, I’m back in Vesper City, but the girl Damon once knew is gone. In her place stands a woman shattered by a monster’s touch, clutching a dying daughter to her chest. I have nowhere left to run except into the arms of the man I once sacrificed everything to leave. -- Ophelia Vitale is a harbinger of ruin and a shameless seductress. Four years ago, she brought our family to the brink of collapse and walked away from the fated mate bond we shared without a backward glance. I, Damon Enzo Vitale, have spent every night since fueling my hatred for her, trying to burn away the memories she left branded on my soul. But the woman who collapsed on that highway isn’t the girl I remember. She’s covered in scars I can’t explain and carrying a child with my family's eyes. As I look into the trauma she’s desperate to hide, the foundations of my world begin to crack. Was my hatred truly valid? Or had I been blinded by a web of lies designed to destroy us both?