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The Clark dynasty had spent five years searching for the perfect match for their son, Edward. Their wait wasn't in vain after an unexpected opportunity came from where they least expected, from the royal family. The Royal family, King Harry and Queen Evelyn who have ruled the kingdom for many years with pride, now found themselves in bankruptcy after making bad financial investments. Very desperate to save their kingdom, they struck a deal with the Clarks, who own a multi-billion dollar networking company, with a deal. Damian Clark, the shrewd patriarch, saw more than just a business deal. This was his chance to raise his family's social status. With a well worked out plan, responded to the royals' offer with an audacious proposal: an arranged marriage between his Son Edward and Princess Vanessa. Edward, once married and deeply in love, had suffered a tragic accident that left him with dissociative amnesia. His past, including his former marriage, was erased from his mind – a convenient circumstance for his parents who had never approved of his previous union. Princess Vanessa, an ambitious young lady seeking for a life outside the palace, found herself captured by duty and circumstances. The love for her people is forcing her to consider a loveless union with a man she barely knows. Edward and Vanessa agreed to the arranged union, despite the storm awaiting them. With Edward's forgotten past threatening to resurface, ready to tear apart the thread binding this union, duty, and  unplanned affection. Will the ghosts of Edward's lost memories destroy any chance of happiness for the couple? Or will Vanessa's selfless love for her kingdom pave the way for an unexpected romance? In this high-stakes game of love, power, and duty, the past and present collide. Can love conquer all?

“I'd do it,”   a voice interrupted. “I'd kiss her.”   Laughter cut short like a needle across a vinyl. Heads turned. Eyes widened. There he was— leaning against the auditorium doorway, dressed in all leather black, clutching a helmet, exuding that dangerous calm was— Killian Lancaster— The school bad boy— The school rebel. The dream boy of every female. Boys wanted to be like him, girls wanted him as a boyfriend, teachers saw him as a nuisance who's hardly in school or attended classes but somehow aced all his classes. He's freaking hot with his tall lean intimidating height, coupled with his pretty face and his long jet black hair hanging on his shoulders to round off the ensemble. His water glass eyes that melted both boys and girls fixated on me. —- Brielle Everly has spent her life in the shadows—overweight, shy, and constantly mocked for her body. She’s invisible to the world, an outcast in her own school. But everything changes when she’s tricked into the lead role of the school play. And the worst part? She has to practice kissing scenes with him—Killian Lancaster, the untouchable bad boy wrapped in leather and mystery. But Killian isn’t just a rebel on a motorcycle. Beneath the smirks and defiance lies a secret the school knows nothing about—a truth darker than anyone could imagine. As their worlds collide, an undeniable pull draws him to Brielle—one he can’t explain, control, or resist. But when she discovers who—or what—he really is, will she be his salvation… or his downfall? Because in the end, Brielle isn’t just a girl he can’t ignore. She’s the key to breaking the curse that haunts him and his kind. The only question is… will she save him, or doom them all?

Warning: This book is an explicit 18+ taboo romance containing graphic sexual content, age-gap relationships, cheating, betrayal, non-consensual elements in a drunken context, strong language, and dark obsessive themes. Reader discretion is strongly advised. Synopsis Nineteen-year-old Elara Voss is still a virgin a fact she’s fiercely guarded while juggling college classes and late-night shifts as a waitress at an upscale club. She’s only been dating Kael Rivera for a week, and they’ve already planned to lose her virginity together on his birthday. But one reckless night, rowdy customers push excessive alcohol on her. Drunk, dizzy, and unsteady on her way home, Elara is “rescued” by a tall, commanding stranger in his forties. In her alcohol-fueled haze, she throws herself at him, kissing him desperately and begging for his touch. The stranger, Damien Rivera, tries to hold back, but Elara’s need overrides everything. They end up in a luxury hotel where he claims her hard and deep for her very first time. Elara screams through the pain and pleasure, her body arching as she demands more, lost in the most intense ecstasy she’s ever known. Damien obeys, fucking her relentlessly until she’s shaking and spent. The next morning, shame crashes over her. Elara accuses Damien of rape, sobbing that she was saving herself for Kael’s birthday. Damien calmly insists she initiated every moment and even offers to send her money, but she refuses and flees in tears. That same evening at Kael’s birthday party, Kael excitedly introduces Elara to his father. The world stops. The man who took her virginity so perfectly the one whose touch she still craves is Damien Rivera, Kael’s dad. Horrified and panicking, Elara tries to bury the secret and stay loyal to her boyfriend.

Domenico Pietro de Cerintti, in the eyes of everyone was the good boy, the sacrificial lamb, the one who attended all the classes and obeyed all the rules, the one who would not let a puppy get run over by a car, the one who didn't have a girl in his bed every Friday night, the one who didn't smirk, the one who girls liked but never wanted, the one who girls used and dumped, the one who wasn't badass. He lived with that image, was content with it even with the bullying until a certain day when they crossed the line, the one line they were never to cross. He disappeared. And appeared months later, in college; the college that had a good percent of his highschool student in attendance; changed, for the worse. Rosetta D'armani, one of his mates in highschool and now his mate in college, who never bullied him but who also never saved him from the bullies. She was, as defined by the male folk, hot, sexy, drool worthy. She saw him on his first day back and lusted after him. She followed him, sought after him, chased after him with every breath in her. He made her lick his heels. After all he was badass now. He smirked now, he had girls in his bed not only every Friday night but every night, the girls wanted him, he used and dumped them now, he was badass. But oh...those bullies didn't know his definition of badass. Badass for him meant revenge. He would revenge on each one of them including his beloved girlfriend. He'd show them just how hot badass burned. One mysterious girl, one desperate girl, one perfect girl and one revengeful boy. ???

He almost never texts me first, and in person he barely says a word. In three years together, he's never remembered a single anniversary, and he's never once suggested we celebrate a holiday. But the second I message him first, he lights up, all "baby" this and "baby" that, fussing over me, coaxing me to sleep. Sometimes I'd get this strange feeling that there were two different Noahs. His explanation was that he was just bad with words face-to-face, and that texting or voice notes felt like less pressure. I kept telling myself that being together meant meeting each other halfway. He was quiet and reserved, so I'd be the one to reach out. He forgot anniversaries, so I booked the restaurant and reminded him to keep the night free. He had no time to schedule our engagement shoot, so I handled the whole thing with the studio myself. He was too busy with work to help us move, so I packed everything alone, booked the movers, and got it all done. When I was so worn out I was about to break, I'd send him a voice note, and he'd say, "I'm so sorry, baby. The lab was insane today. I couldn't be there for you, and it kills me to watch you run yourself into the ground." Hearing how guilty he sounded, all my hurt just melted away. And that's how I carried three years of this relationship on my own, running on the flawless tenderness he only ever gave me online. Until today, when I found a program on his laptop called Boyfriend Assistant. It analyzed every message I sent and generated the perfect reply, the perfect response, every single time. Cold snap? It sent: Bundle up, baby. Time of the month? It pinged an API and auto-ordered hot chocolate to my door. All those late nights he spent "working," the gentle voice notes that lulled me to sleep, every one of them was synthesized in Noah's voice. For three years, the person who'd been there for me, day and night, was never Noah at all. For three years, I'd been performing a one-woman show.

A year ago, my life was simple. I was just Ariel Anthony…a regular college student, cheerleader with decent grades, daughter of a struggling baker, and recently appointed step-sister to a guy I barely knew. Nothing special. Then came the storm. Not just the thunderstorm that trapped me in Professor Grayson's apartment that night, but the storm that followed. The one that's still raging around me, that I created. They don't warn you about men like Luther Grayson in freshman orientation. They don't tell you how a single glance from the right person can make you question everything you thought you knew about yourself. About what you want. About what you'd risk to get it. They also don't warn you about guys like Ethan Cross, with his perfect smile hiding something dark. The kind of guy who's used to getting what he wants and doesn't understand the meaning of the word "no." And no one, absolutely no one…prepares you for what it feels like when the person who's supposed to be your brother looks at you with something else in his eyes. Mom once said I had a gift for making complicated situations worse. If she only knew. My phone buzzed beside me, and I glanced down to see Luther's name on the screen. My heart still jumps every time, even when I'm aware of what could happen if people learned about the two of us. I should ignore it. I should block his number, focus on my classes, help Mom with the bakery, and pretend none of this ever happened. But I'm already reaching for the phone. That's the thing about crossing lines… once you step over them, it's almost impossible to step back. And I've crossed so many lines now, I can't even see where I started.

Book 1 – My Dad’s Mafia Best Friend When Lyra is sent to Italy to stay with her father’s best friend, Adrian, after his business collapses in New York, her first concern is for her dad—but right behind it is the forbidden desire she’s harbored for Adrian since they met a year ago. Adrian fights his own battle, struggling to keep his best friend’s daughter out of his mind. But as the fire between them grows, resisting becomes impossible. With their age gap, the weight of taboo, and the dangerous Mafia world Lyra’s father wants to shield her from, how long can they ignore the spark between them? Book 2 – Greg and Kael’s Love Story (M/M) Fashion design student Greg is already overwhelmed—balancing classes, an internship, and the secret that his best friend’s boyfriend is a Mafia boss. The last thing he needs is trouble knocking at his door. But trouble doesn’t just knock—it sneaks in, wearing the name Kael. Greg should stay far away, but danger has never looked so tempting. As their worlds collide in a game of deception, attraction, and secrets too dangerous to expose, the question isn’t just how long Kael can hide—it’s how long Greg can resist. Book 3 – Bella and Quinn’s Love Story (W/W) Bella has spent years burying her dark past, even from her closest friends. But one mistake lands her behind bars, trapped with a mysterious woman who won’t stop getting under her skin. When an attempted poisoning leads to her breaking out from prison, Bella never expects the real shock to come after—the truth about her family, her past, and the undeniable pull toward the very woman she should be avoiding, Quinn.

Julian Hayes spent eight years climbing from first officer to captain of the most coveted international routes. I stood beside him for every mile of that climb. For him, I walked away from the Valenti family, the most feared Mafia name on the East Coast. I buried Elena Valenti, and became Lina Vale, the girl who smiled in the cabin while he ruled the cockpit. The day I left, my father stood on the marble steps of our estate and said, "Elena, if you walk out that gate for him, don’t come crawling back." Julian never knew. To him, I was a woman with no real family, no real power, and no life worth asking about. I was the one who memorized his flight schedule, packed his stomach pills, and kept dinner warm until midnight. Once, I asked him, "Can you take me into the sky the way you see it? Just once." He didn’t even put down his fork. "The cockpit is a workplace, Lina. Not a theme park." I said okay and never asked again. Then one sleepless dawn, I found the encrypted album on his phone. More than forty cockpit photos: cloud seas, blood-red sunsets, double rainbows after storms, the Milky Way over the Atlantic. Every one had been sent to the same contact. A teddy bear emoji. The newest photo showed half a sun hanging off the wingtip. His caption read, [Next time you’re off, I’ll put you in the observer seat. Sit on the right. That’s where the whole sky opens up.] She replied, [I’ll hold you to that.] I put the phone back. I didn’t change the password, didn’t delete the album, didn’t wake him up to beg for an explanation. At dawn, I brewed his coffee like always, sat alone at the kitchen island, and drank mine in silence. Then I sent my resignation letter and called a number I hadn’t touched in eight years. I watched the first flight of the morning rise beyond the Manhattan skyline and said, "Papa, I’m coming home." When the line connected, my father’s voice was colder than a gun barrel. "Have you thought it through?"

On the eve of my wedding, I catch my boyfriend of seven years, Eddy Stark, and my best friend, Jane Holman, going at it in the company break room. All my coworkers crowd outside the glass door, watching the spectacle. "My gosh! That's your boyfriend, right? It turns out…" At the most humiliating moment in my life, Rylen Huff, the CEO who never got along with me, walks over and drapes his coat over my shoulders. Before everyone present, he makes an announcement. "She is my fiancée. Save your nonsense." From that day on, I go from being the company's joke to the CEO's wife who everyone envies. After we get married, Rylen treats me very well. He gives me everything from jewelry and mansion to power. But only one thing never goes as planned—we don't have a child. To give him an heir, I go through injections and egg retrieval again and again. After 99 IVF attempts, I finally get pregnant. But on the day of my prenatal checkup, I overhear his conversation with the doctor. "Mr. Huff, the IVF procedure has already severely damaged her health and body. If she finds out that this embryo is actually Jane's, I fear she may have a mental meltdown." Rylen falls silent for a moment. Then, he says evenly, "I've already given her a life most people could never have. She should feel contented. When she gives birth, I'll tell her that her body was too weak, and the baby didn't make it. "Jane cannot handle the pain and hardship of childbirth. We are childhood friends who grew up together, after all. Of course, I should handle a minor matter like this for her." So the timely rescue and unconditional favor from Rylen were nothing but lies. I immediately schedule an abortion, as I don't intend to give birth to a child that isn't mine. In addition, I won't stay with a man who has never loved me.

My mother, Eleanor Leigh, is pregnant with fraternal twins, but we aren't developing well. The doctor recommends terminating my younger sister, Juliette Vance, whose chances of survival are slim. Since Dad, Thomas Vance, suffers from azoospermia and can never have children again, I, Julian Vance, become the pampered, only child of the family. For my first birthday celebration, Mom and Dad gift me a house and a vehicle. Every day, they dress me up like a porcelain doll and specifically enroll me in ballet classes to elevate my poise. They even carry me everywhere I go, terrified that I might fall and end up with a scar. I only learn I'm a boy in elementary school when I get laughed at for entering the girls' restroom, and later learn it in a science lesson. Because of my classmates' constant bullying, I break down in tears, begging Mom not to make me wear dresses anymore. However, she, who is usually so gentle with me, suddenly flies into a rage and slaps me hard across the face right in the middle of the street. "What's going to happen to your sister if you don't wear dresses? It's your fault for being born a jinx! You killed your sister! "If you hadn't stolen her nutrients, she would be alive and well right now! Our family business would be booming as well. You'll either be our daughter for the rest of your life, or you can go to hell right this instant!" It turns out Juliette and I are the children Mom and Dad begged the heavens for, and while Juliette's a lucky charm, I'm a jinx. I wear long hair and dresses because I'm Juliette's body double. I sprint away in tears, only to be sent flying by a car running a red light. As my consciousness slips away, I wish with all my heart to go back to when Mom first found out she was pregnant. This time, I'll be the one to be reduced.