Hands Rated E For Everyone

Five years ago, my Alpha parents rescued me from an orphanage and brought me home to the Blue Moon Pack. I thought my life was finally taking a turn for the better. I thought I was safe. But I was wrong. Yolanda McKinney—the fake heiress—conspired with rogue wolves to destroy me. They kidnapped me, ran over my legs with a car, breaking them, and left me battered and bleeding. When my parents and my childhood sweetheart, Joseph Delgado, found me lying in a pool of my own blood, their panic was unmistakable. They rushed me to the pack hospital, but the diagnosis was devastating: I might never walk again. Joseph proposed to me on the spot, vowing to stand by me through everything. My parents, furious at Yolanda's betrayal, promised swift justice. They assured me they had cut all ties with her, that she'd fled in guilt and drowned in a tragic accident. I believed them. I had to. For five years, I focused on recovery, trying to rebuild my shattered life. My marriage to Joseph was my anchor, the one thing I thought I could trust. Until the day I saw Yolanda McKinney alive. "You and Mom and Dad saved my life," she said smugly, her voice dripping with venom. "Without you, that pathetic cripple would’ve been the end of me." My blood ran cold as she continued. "But she never suspected, not even for a second, that you and I have a pup. Mom and Dad? They erased every trace, switched her meds for useless pills—hell, they even buried the evidence." Joseph's response shattered what little remained of my heart. "Don't make it sound so harsh," he murmured. "Marrying her was the only way I could keep sending those forgiveness letters. It was the only way to keep you and our son safe." Every word stabbed me like a blade. My marriage? A lie. My parents? Traitors who discarded me like trash. The justice they’d promised me? A farce. Fine. If I meant nothing to them, then they would mean nothing to me.

Right before the SAT, our scatterbrained airheaded group favourite, the school belle, Priscilla Ashford, volunteers herself to safeguard everyone's admission tickets. My firm refusal of her offer earns me the displeasure of my childhood sweetheart, Justin Kylemark. "You're picking on her again," he says. I ignore his rebuke. On the exam day itself, I personally double-checked every single admission ticket to make sure nothing could go wrong. However, the moment Priscilla gets hers from me, she burst into tears, claiming that I lost her ticket. Justin snatched my admission ticket and tore it to shreds. I run until my legs give out, barely managing to get it reissued before the bus leaves. However, my classmates all kicked me off the bus together. "You lost Priscilla's admission ticket. Do you think you deserve to sit for the exam?" They carry with them the exam prediction I had prepared for them. Thanks to that, they each achieve excellent scores. I have no choice but to repeat the year and become the top scorer. By then, Justin and my other classmates, who are already in prestigious universities and colleges, all return together. They produce fake evidence, accusing me of cheating in the exam. Unable to defend myself, a candidate who flunked the exam poured gasoline on me and set me on fire. When I open my eyes once more, I see myself handing the admission tickets over to Priscilla… except for my own.

I bought my daughter Aria an island when her wolf spirit awakened. My mate, Alpha Kael, was supposed to come with me. We were going to hold our daughter’s coming-of-age ceremony on her new island. But he never showed. And he took half the Pack’s guards with him. I had no choice. I took Aria to the island myself. Just as we were about to land, we were attacked by rogues. A silver bullet tore through my daughter. She collapsed in my arms, screaming in pain. I screamed for Kael through our mind link. I called his phone. Nothing. My daughter died. I collapsed into Kael's arms when he finally showed up, sobbing. His eyes were red. "A Pack emergency held me up… I'm so sorry…" I thought he was grieving with me. Until I found his first love, Isabella, curled up in his arms. "You're so clever, Kael," she purred. "Since you never made Selena the official Luna, she had no authority over the guards. She couldn't protect that powerful daughter of hers." Kael kissed her forehead. He soothed her. "Aria's powerful wolf will cure the sickness in your son Leo's spirit. Her death was worth it. And this island… now that Aria's gone, it's the perfect recovery gift for Leo." My wolf howled in grief. My legs gave out. Tears streamed down my face. It was all a plan. He’d planned it all for his first love. I turned my back on him. I severed our mate bond. But then? He dropped to his knees, begging me to forgive him. Fine. I'll forgive him when he brings my poor Aria back. Can he do that?

Her body went still. Then his voice dropped lower, laced with venom and promise. “By the time I'm done with you, you'll wish you never said …I do.” Angelo placed his hand on the small of her back, pulling her closer in… closer than fear, closer than escape. He leaned in, his smile picture perfect for the cameras. “Now kiss your groom,” he murmured. Then…. His breath ghosted over her lips before sealing the moment with a kiss… cold, calculated and final. This wasn't marriage, nor love. Rather, it was war. It was the beginning of her sentence. Millicent felt it in her bones, the quiet threat beneath his touch. She hadn't just married a man. She had stepped into the arms of her executioner. “Smile for the crowd, Mrs. De Angelis,” Angelo whispered in a low and poisonous voice. “Because soon… they'll be watching you burn.” *Click* The cameras flashed. ~~~~~~~~ To save her brother, Millicent Romano agreed to marry the one man her heart never forgot, Angelo De Angelis. But he isn’t the boy she once knew. He’s a Don now. A powerful and ruthless Don who was hell-bent on revenge. To Angelo, she’s nothing more than a pawn, poisoned gift from an enemy empire. The wedding was never about love… it was about war. But desire doesn’t play by the rules of vengeance, and neither does the past they share. As vengeance dives deep, obsession dives ten times deeper. As secrets unravel, there's only one question left…. When love is laced with blood, someone's bound to bleed. In a world where loyalty kills faster than bullets.... Who will fall first?

My parents' enemy kidnaps me and livestreams chopping off my fingers just to force them to show up. For a time, the entire Internet searches for my parents. But what they don't know is that the captain who appeared in the livestream is my biological father. At that moment, he's on a beach in Hashford, setting off magnificent fireworks for his adopted daughter. And on their barbecue table, the livestream of my fingers being severed is playing. Later on, when I survive long enough to be rescued, I reach out my mangled hand to touch my parents. They recoil in disgust and leave without looking back, taking the adopted daughter out for Wersole food. But they don't know that the thing hidden within my mangled palm will make them regret their actions beyond measure.

During a critical heart transplant, my doctor husband insisted his intern assist despite her garish nail art compromising the sterile field. When I called her out, he abandoned the patient mid-surgery to comfort her. I begged him to return, but he snapped, "Giselle is upset. Can't you wait? This is nothing compared to her feelings." 40 minutes later, the patient bled out and died. Later, they discovered that he was our highly respected mayor and placed the blame on me. "If it weren't for you causing a scene and kicking us out of the operating room, the mayor wouldn't have bled to death. This is all your fault!" Defenseless, I was sentenced to life in prison, tortured, and died in agony. My husband and his intern walked down the aisle, enjoying their happy life. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day of that fateful surgery.

Asya is the most promising ballerina the Royal Ballet has seen in years. Wildly ambitious, back-breakingly disciplined, and immensely driven, she has only one objective: prima ballerina. There is nothing she won't do to earn this once-in-a-generation title. But behind her ballerina grace she hides dark secrets of an inhumanly strict mother, pushing her body to cruel limits, and serial hookups with male dancers. Roman Zharnov is the star of the Russian ballet: young, successful, arrogant, beautiful, and worst of all, talented. He's come to London for a fresh start after earning himself the nickname 'the bad boy of ballet'. It is during a rehearsal that his eye falls on Asya, a nineteen-year-old soloist with spitfire in her eyes and a raw talent capable of silencing an auditorium. But Asya has a partner, and she wants to stay as far away as possible from the Russian prodigy with a reputation that won't seem to leave him alone. In the competitive world of classical ballet Asya is climbing the ranks, earning coveted parts and building a name for herself as a promising soloist. But all the while she is playing a dangerous game behind the curtain. Roman has found the one ballerina that can keep up with him and wants her to partner him, but he will soon realise that animals can't do what she does.

Kenneth Parker, my childhood friend—and the person I've secretly had a crush on—isn't into men. In the end, I find myself wandering into one of those shops out of sheer loneliness and buying myself a toy. That night, just as I'm about to follow the instructions to use it, someone suddenly opens the bedroom door. Kenneth stands in the doorway, his face frozen in complete and utter shock as he stares at me. Blushing furiously, I try to pull the blanket and cover myself, but Kenneth rushes in and takes the toy from my hand. He says, "It's alright, Xavier. I'll show you how to use it."

My mother is a hospital director. To give my brother, an intern doctor, more hands-on experience, she assigns him as the lead surgeon for my brain tumor operation. I beg her to let someone else do it and tell her it's my only chance at survival. But she slaps me hard across the face and screams, "How did I raise such a selfish, ungrateful child? Your brother has just started his internship—can't you help him improve his skills? Is that too much to ask?" Later, the surgery fails. I die on the operating table. And my mother seems to have aged decades overnight.

The day my husband, Lucas Maxwell, helps his childhood sweetheart—Cecilia Brown, who has cancer—lose her virginity, I leave behind a divorce agreement and walk away. Before I leave, I drop a comment beneath a photo of them on his social media. Their fingers are tightly interlocked in the photo. "Let's get divorced. I wish you both a lifetime of happiness." A minute later, he calls me. "How did I end up marrying someone as selfish as you, Fiona Sinclair? Do you really have the heart to let her die without leaving anything behind?" I sneer, "You're no longer my husband. How is that my problem?" That's when he panics.