Genjutsu Gone Right

What do you want from me? ’ she finally managed to ask, her voice trembling. Logan’s lips curled into a dark smirk. ‘Since you were the one who took those photos that damaged my reputation,’ he said, his voice dripping with disdain, ‘it’s only fair that you face the consequences.’ Alessia’s heart beat wildly as she tried to comprehend the meaning behind Logan’s words. Before she could gather her thoughts and ask what kind of punishment he had in mind, Logan’s hand clamped down on her jaw, holding her firmly in place. Her eyes widened in shock, her breath caught in her throat. In an instant, Logan lowered his head, capturing her lips with his own in a possessive and demanding kiss. *************** After a fateful night, Alessia awakens to the realisation that she has given her virginity to a stranger. With only a note and a bundle of money as clues, she embarks on a journey of self-discovery and motherhood. Years later, Alessia finds herself navigating the cutthroat world of paparazzi reporting while raising her genius son, Milo. Her quest for a scandalous scoop leads her to the enigmatic billionaire CEO, Logan Wilde, whose face bears an uncanny resemblance to her son. As she dives deeper into Logan’s world, she can’t deny the magnetic attraction between them. Logan, suffering from a haunting secret, feels the same way. Determined to know her, he makes an unexpected proposition...

Shea's gift is no ordinary. She can forsee things. Good or bad. Despite the odds she hopes that this will help her find the answers on who and what she truly believes in. To find her lost love. Her right place... that for once, time did not allow it to happen.

Madelyn Hills didn’t plan to walk out on her crumbling marriage the same day her best friend was getting married to a billionaire groom she'd never met. When Ava begs her to fill in for her for only a few hours, Madelyn reluctantly agrees. After all, it’s just until Ava returns from a last goodbye with her lover. Except… Ava never comes back. Now Madelyn finds herself on a honeymoon with Dominic Blackwell; a powerful billionaire who has secrets of his own and a family desperate to keep up the charade. What was supposed to be a harmless swap quickly spirals into a rollercoaster of luxury, lies, and one very real marriage to a man she was never supposed to meet. Madelyn tries to keep up the act, but that soon becomes hard when strings get attached. Would Madelyn and Dominic be able to save their marriage when their secrets are revealed? Or had this fairytale marriage be doomed from the start?

I'm the so-called 'Lady of Glory'—yeah, that girl from the Archbishop's prophecy. They said I'd bring endless glory to whatever Family I married into. But at our engagement party, my fiancé—Marco Falcone—swaggered onstage holding hands with his pregnant stripper girlfriend. Then he grabbed my wrist, dragged me forward, and made me kiss her hand. "Lola's the only woman I'll ever call my wife," he said with a smug little grin. "If you still want this marriage, your De Luca money better support her and the baby." I slapped him. Ripped the contract in half. Let it snow confetti. "Please. I can marry someone a hundred times better." Right when I was about to torch the entire Falcone Family, someone stepped out of the shadows. Marco's older brother, Dante Falcone. The one who'd been injured, underestimated, and pushed aside. He locked eyes with me, totally unfazed. "Signorina De Luca, do your words still stand?"

They say fated mates are sacred, practically unbreakable. But Aiden wasn’t mine, and I wasn’t his. That didn’t stop me from loving him like he was the last man left in this cursed world. He swore he didn’t need a bond to love me. Said it was pure. Said he’d love me unconditionally. Said he’d choose me—always. But now he’s in our bed, moaning another woman’s name like a prayer. Wearing a forbidden pendant laced in black magic—magic strong enough to block the mate bond so I wouldn’t feel the betrayal. Too late, Aiden. I felt it. Like a dagger slicing straight through my soul. And just as I hit rock bottom, he shows up. A young, enigmatic Alpha—feared, powerful, far too young for me. Alpha Damon. He’s asking questions about illegal mate bond magic. Magic my husband used to cheat without consequences. Magic that ties back to a dark conspiracy. Turns out, my perfect little marriage is just the rotten tip of a magic-smuggling empire. Damon wants my help. Needs me close. Says I’m the only one who knows enough to crack this wide open. But every time he says my name, something in me stirs, something I swore was long dead. I shouldn’t want him. I couldn't him. He’s too young. Too dangerous. Too…everything. But goddess help me—he’s the first man who’s ever looked at me like I wasn’t something broken. Like I wasn’t disposable. Like I was worth fighting for.

“You’re a liar. And a coward. And you broke me twice.” I laughed—hollow, bitter. Then bent to pick up the torn pieces of the file. I couldn’t believe I’d fallen for the same man twice in one lifetime. If this was a dream, it was a cruel one. When I walked past him, I didn’t look back. “I know I hurt you,” he said behind me, his voice low and raw. “But I never stopped loving you… not even for a single day.” --- They were never supposed to end up together...again, but fate had other plans. Alina has always been the unwanted twin—the quiet, overlooked sister living in the shadow of her perfect twin. So when her father faces financial ruin, he makes a chilling decision: marry one of his daughters off to save the family name. The groom? A powerful, mysterious heir hidden from the public eye. The chosen bride? Alina’s stunning sister. But at the last moment, her father switches them. Now, Alina finds herself married to a man she doesn’t know—yet strangely feels drawn to. A man who might just remember her from a forgotten moment in their past. As sparks begin to fly, she finds herself falling in love with a familiar stranger again. But dark secrets begin to unfold—and a family desperate to reclaim their “true” daughter fights dirty. She was never supposed to be the bride. But she just might be the woman he’s waited for all along.

At twenty-eight, I held the dubious honor of being the last unmarried socialite on New York's Upper East Side. Everyone around me was growing increasingly anxious about my single status. In my previous life, my mother arranged a matchmaking cocktail party, where I was told to choose a husband from ten handpicked elite bachelors. I bribed the event planner to place Mark West's profile at the very top—and as I had hoped, I chose him. After we married, Mark treated me with what seemed like tender affection. He even bought me an oceanfront villa in the Hamptons, making me believe I had finally found true love. But that illusion shattered the day I was nine months pregnant, just hours away from giving birth. Mark drove a scalpel straight into my abdomen—then, right in front of me, hurled our newborn onto the floor. "If you hadn't forced me into this marriage with your family's power, Sofia wouldn't have been heartbroken enough to go drinking and get drugged and assaulted. This… this is what you owe her!" He tossed the scalpel aside, then calmly let his private doctor pin down my blood-soaked body. I fought through excruciating pain for six agonizing hours, until I finally bled to death. Afterward, Mark dumped my corpse into the Hudson River. But for Sofia, he hosted a grand funeral—funded with my money, under my name—and paraded himself to the world as a grieving, devoted widower. Given a second chance at life, I refused to step foot in that cursed matchmaking event. Instead, I went straight to my mother with a demand: marry me to Robert Black—the most ruthless, cold-blooded titan of Wall Street, whose scarred face was feared by all. In the end, stripped of my financial backing, Mark's hedge fund collapsed. He became a disgraced fraudster, spat on by everyone on Wall Street.

How rich can a person be? My wife is incredibly rich. People call her "The Queen of Cloudridge" because nearly half the city's properties are owned by her. We've been married for five years, and every time she goes out to meet her first love, she transfers a property to my name. By the time I have 99 homes in my name, she suddenly notices that something has changed. I no longer cry, beg, or ask her to stay. I simply choose the finest mansion in all of Cloudridge, bring the property deed with me, and wait for her to sign it. She signs the papers, and for the first time, she softens. "When I get back, let's go watch the fireworks together." I quietly tuck the agreement away and hum in response. But I never tell her what she's really signed this time. It's not a property deed. It's our divorce agreement.

Seven years ago, I ignored my girlfriend's heart-wrenching pleas and ruthlessly severed our relationship. Now, after seven long years, she had risen to the top—and she was back, ready for her wedding. She didn't come home for mere celebration, though. She came for revenge. She obliterated the company my father had spent his entire life building and did not stop until she shattered his leg, forcing him to endure unimaginable pain. It was all so I'd be forced to go to her wedding and beg for forgiveness. But that wasn't enough. She wanted more. She hissed, brandishing a blade, "If Matthew's not here in ten minutes, I'll slice off a finger for every minute he's late." My autistic brother's fingers, the only way he could create art, became a bargaining chip in her sadistic game. Dad's anguished cries filled the air as he pleaded for mercy, but she was not done. She wanted to tear my family apart piece by piece. My mom, fragile and trapped in the haze of Alzheimer's, was next. Her mind, already slipping, crumbled under the relentless torment. She cracked, completely lost to the madness. With tears streaming down his face, Dad said, "My son died the day you left for abroad."

Shock, cold and absolute, rippled through me. My jaw dropped. “Owned? I am not an object! You can’t just—” His dark chuckle cut me off. It was a chilling sound, devoid of warmth. “Oh, but I do, little bird. You became mine the moment your dear brother, Carlos, sold you to clear his debts. Along with almost all the shares in your father’s company.” The air left my lungs in a ragged gasp. What was he talking about? That couldn't be true, yet the look in his eyes said otherwise. He had sold me like an object, like chattel. Rage, raw and unadulterated, surged through me, eclipsing the fear for a fleeting moment. I tried to push past him, to escape and to run anywhere but his hand shot out, grabbing me by the neck, not quite choking but enough to hold me in an iron grip. He pinned me to the wall, his face inches from mine, his eyes burning with an intense possessive fire. “You now belong to Lorenzo Blackwood,” he growled, his voice low and dangerous. “You are mine. To possess. To claim. To own.”