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I shook my head as a dark chuckle escaped my lips. “I’m not her, Dimitri, can’t you see it? I will never be her,” My voice shook as I spoke, tears threatening to spill. Dimitri ran his fingers through his hair in distress. His usual cold demeanor slipping away as he walked towards me and grabbed me by my shoulder. I felt his fingers on my chin, forcing me to look at him. I swallowed. “You don’t understand, Dimitri,” My voice came out as a whisper. “You are in love with that woman. Not me. It has-it has never been me,” “I know who I want, Val and that person is you,” *** For years, Valeria Moore had lived her life as a substitute lover to Dimitri. She believed one day, he would see her for who she is and not as his lost mate who had the same face as her. But when Dimitri announced his engagement to Summer Wood, Val knew she couldn’t take it anymore. She wanted to cut all ties with him but now, Dimitri wasn’t ready to let her go. Not when he just realized she was pregnant for him.

Aria Blake has risen from the ashes of her past, leaving behind her old life - and the name Stacey Adams - for a fresh start filled with invisibility and art. No one knows the secrets she’s buried, and she intends to keep it that way. But when billionaire Killian Stone - ruthless, magnetic, and entirely off-limits steps into her world as the focus of her camera, he sees more than just a photographer behind the lens. He sees her. And he’s not the type to just walk away. Just as Aria dares believe in a future, the shadows of her past catch up to her. Buried secrets resurface, and dangerous players close in, threatening her reputation and Killian’s legacy. If the truth comes out, it won’t just ruin her. It could destroy him too. Can they survive the pull of love that threatens to override everything?

My mom was a brilliant programmer. She created an app called "Shake for Allowance." After my brother and I downloaded it, she told us, "From now on, this is how you'll get your living expenses. On the first of every month, just shake your phone. Whatever number you get is the amount you'll receive. "The range is from zero to ten thousand dollars." At first, I was excited. Every month, I shook my phone with anticipation. However, every time, the result was the same: 0 dollars. My brother, meanwhile, always landed the highest amount. "Wow, sis, your luck really sucks," he said. Even when he showed me the transfer record for ten thousand dollars, there was a smug smile on his face. When I confronted Mom, she brushed it off, saying my luck was bad and that no one else was to blame. With no other choice, I worked three part-time jobs just to support myself while studying. On the night before my final exams, I collapsed from exhaustion and died. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the very day my mom created the "Shake for Allowance" app.

"System, I want to go home." The system responds to Tabitha Samson immediately. "Understood, Tabitha. Exit procedures are now activated. You'll be able to leave this world in half a month." Weirdly enough, the system, which has always followed its own programming, pauses for a few seconds. It soon brings up a question, its tone slightly confused. "You have a husband who dotes on you and a son who always takes your side, Tabitha. Isn't this your home? These people are your family, you know." The moment Tabitha hears the word "family", her gaze slowly fixes on the TV before her.

Violetta is no stranger to the mafia underworld. She grew up in it alongside Nico, the man she fell in love with. Violetta's father promised her to Nico, and at one time, that was all she wanted. Now, she's a nurse working the night shift in the ER. The mafia is in her past until Anthony, freshly named Don of his family, comes to bulldoze her fantasy world of normal. Violetta discovers she was promised to Anthony as well. Now she is a pawn between two mafia kings who want her to be their queen.

“You chose them over me,” Jules whispered, her voice breaking as Adrian walked away, “and now I’m paying for both our choices.” The bro code was simple: teammates don't touch each other's sisters. Jules Rowan broke it anyway. Adrian Cross was supposed to be her brother's best friend, not hers. The brooding transfer student with eyes and secrets carved into his skin. He was off-limits in every way that mattered. But Jules was tired of being the perfect coach's daughter, so she pursued him. Seduced him and made him break every rule for her. One stolen kiss in the equipment room changed everything. Now her father won't speak her name, her brother wants Adrian's blood, and the entire campus treats her like a disease. She's broke, homeless, and friendless—the girl who destroyed a championship team for selfish love. But the cruelest cut isn't the public humiliation or family abandonment. It's watching Adrian look at her like she's his biggest regret. They say she's getting what she deserves for breaking the bro code. Maybe they're right. But some hearts are worth burning down the world for—even if you're the only one left standing in the ashes.

York Langston locked me up for six months. Word on the street was he dropped over 100 million to buy me my own private island. Security here? Tight enough to rival the White House. Even a bird that flew past the area would get shot down on sight. But what nobody knew… All that luxury people envied? To me, it was just a gilded cage. It wasn't until he found a woman who looked almost like me that his interest began to fade. One day, she stormed the island with a gang at her back while he was away. She slashed my tendons and carved up my face with a blade before locking me inside a cage with a rabid dog. I was barely breathing by the time York finally found me. "York, this woman thought she could fool you by imitating me? She must be a spy! You'll have to flay her alive if you want her to talk!"

My blood-bonded mate, Prince Dorian, despised me. I was just a mortal to him. A girl with filthy blood. His eternity was already promised to a pureblood—Cordelia. When she died in an accident, he blamed me. Hated me for ten years. But when rival vampires attacked our castle, he saved me. Bleeding out in my arms, he used his last breath to push my shaking hands away. "Odette... if only the Bond had never tied us together." At his wake, they kicked me out. So I climbed to the top of their family’s skyscraper—a place they arrogantly called "Heaven's Needle"—and jumped. When I opened my eyes again, I was back. Back to the night the ancient Blood Bond chose me as his mate. This time, I'm setting him free. And myself along with him.

Parole is Shaw Carter’s final shot at freedom, and he doesn’t want to lose it. After a felony conviction nearly cost him everything, the path forward is narrow—keep his head down, stay out of trouble, and survive long enough to earn his life back. It would be an easy task if he wasn’t placed in the mayor’s custody, and is forced to share the same apartment with his son. Lucas Hale is everything Shaw should avoid. He’s sharp-tongued, infuriatingly composed, and far too comfortable pushing Shaw to his limits. From the very first night, it’s clear Lucas doesn’t want Shaw there. Every word that came out of Lucas' mouth was a provocation. Shaw tells himself it doesn’t matter. He can endure anything for a few months. But tension has a way of twisting. What starts as hostility quickly turns into something far more dangerous. Their fights grow closer and sharper, charged with something neither of them wants to name. Their moral lines blur. Control slips. And suddenly, the one thing Shaw can’t afford becomes the one thing he can’t stay away from. Because Lucas isn’t just getting under his skin, he’s unraveling him. But beneath the tension and the touching and everything neither of them will say out loud, Lucas is carrying a secret, one that doesn’t just connect him to Shaw’s past. It is Shaw’s past. And when the truth finally surfaces, Shaw will have to decide if the man he’s falling for is his salvation or the reason he never should have been free at all.

We were on our way to celebrate our son’s birthday when we got into a car crash. When I woke up, I looked at my family gathered around my hospital bed and cracked a joke: “Sorry, but who are you guys?” I held back a smile, curious to see how they'd humor their "amnesiac" patient. Would my mother grab my hand in a panic? Would my husband look at me with worry? Would my son rush over, crying and calling me Mom? What I didn't expect was for them to freeze for a moment—and then, almost in unison, let out sighs of relief. My mother was the first to speak, her tone unmistakably lighter, as if a huge weight had been lifted. "If you don’t remember, it’s probably for the best. This is Lindsay—your sister, she’s my daughter. You were adopted." My husband then pointed at me and said to our son, "You should call her Aunt Wendy." Before the shock could even sink in, I watched the child I'd fought so hard to protect turn and throw himself into the arms of Lindsay. "Mom! I played outside all day. I missed you so much!" So that was the truth. My amnesia was exactly what they'd been hoping for. In that case, I didn't need this made-up life anymore.