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I had just gotten home when a parent in my son’s class group chat erupted: [Ms. Zinn, what kind of place are you running? Do you let just any random stray off the street become a teacher?] [My daughter came home, grabbed two forks, and tried to jump off the balcony. She said it was Miss Never who told her to!] The homeroom teacher panicked and denied it at once, insisting there was no such person as Miss Never at the kindergarten. She even posted the official teaching schedule in the chat to prove it. On the security footage, there was not a single trace of this so-called Miss Never. However, later, my son whispered to me in secret, “Mom, Miss Never is an old lady with a cat’s face.” “She says only kids can see her.”

**"This isn’t just any party, it’s your wedding."** The words hit me like a truck as I stood frozen in disbelief. **"To Angelo Rizzo."** My stepbrother’s voice was cold, detached. My heart pounded in my chest. **"You’re joking, right?"** But one look at his face told me he wasn’t. **"You’re the payment for my debt to the Cosa Nostra."** His betrayal was a knife twisting in my gut. --- Attending a party with my stepbrother, I was prepared for an ordinary night. Instead, I was thrown into a nightmare. Without warning, I found myself standing beside Angelo Rizzo—a man as feared as he is cold—as his bride. My stepbrother owed the Cosa Nostra money, and I was his only way out. With no escape and no choice, I now wear a wedding ring tied to a man I fear. Three hours later, my world has turned upside down. There’s no running from Angelo, no hiding from the life ahead. My only hope? To survive being married to the infamous Angelo Rizzo.

When Eloise Garpin, my daughter, comes back from kindergarten, she tells me that her teacher, Karen Linsell, has given her class a weird assignment. Apparently, everyone is to record their mothers' menstrual week. But what makes things weirder is that whenever I'm on my period, John Garpin, my husband who's often busy with work, keeps offering to pick Eloise up from kindergarten. One day, I come across a post on a social media app. "What should I do? I've fallen in love with my student's rich father! Oh dear, I really like him so much! You have no idea that his taut and slim waist looks so seductive! Every time I see him, I can't help but moan!" Someone begins admonishing her out of fury the moment they see the post. "What the hell? Are you itching to become a mistress? You really are shameless! Goodness, you're so disgusting! I can't believe you call yourself a teacher!" Unexpectedly, the original poster doesn't care about the comment at all. She even posts a photo featuring the aftermath of her carnal fun with the man. "So what if I am? Anyway, we regularly sleep together every month whenever he picks his daughter up during his wife's period. This is so thrilling!" I'm stunned when I see the million-dollar custom watch strapped to the man's wrist in the photo. And today… happens to be the first day of my period.

Zane is a werewolf and his planet was destroyed by vampires. His mother sent him to Earth, the planet of humans, just before their planet was destroyed. Zane was a young werewolf and he didn't know how to survive on his own, in a planet of humans, but then, he found an orphanage and his life changes

On Christmas Eve, Elena's world shatters when she catches her boyfriend cheating with her best friend. Heartbroken and humiliated, she flees into the snowy night... only to collide with a stranger whose icy presence sends her ex running in fear. Before she can ask who he is, the man declares her his, and kisses her with a passion that ignites something deep within. Then everything goes dark. Elena wakes up in a strange place, surrounded by people calling her "Luna." Trapped in a supernatural world she doesn't understand, mated to a powerful Alpha who refuses to let her go, Elena must navigate ancient rivalries, dangerous secrets, and a jealous woman determined to destroy her. What began as a festive night of celebration becomes a haunting journey of love, power, and survival. And Elena must decide; fight for her freedom or embrace a destiny written in the stars.

My husband, Chandler Goodwin, claims that he doesn't understand what the phrases "silent treatment" or "giving the cold shoulder" mean. Yet, in the three years we have been married, he has never once spoken to me sweetly. The first time we have a falling out, I remain proud and dignified. We end up ignoring each other for seven days straight. The seventh time we have a cold standoff, I start to panic a little. However, despite trying all sorts of methods, he doesn't back down. The 11th time it happens, I have already learned to work through my emotions myself. Chandler doesn't even need to say anything before I take the initiative to apologize first. I simply think that he's just a naturally indifferent person, that nobody can warm his stone-cold heart. Then, on the third year of our marriage, I accidentally ruin his dress shirt while ironing it. Chandler doesn't say a word, but that very night, he packs his things and moves into a hotel. On the third day of being blocked, I head to his company with a handwritten apology. While passing by his office, I spot him leaning over to shoot his angry assistant a doting smile. "I'm sorry for raising my voice at you just now and upsetting you. It's been 57 minutes since you started ignoring me. Please stop giving me the cold shoulder, alright?" I freeze on the spot, the apology letter in my hand practically burning my fingers. As it turns out, it's not that he doesn't know what the silent treatment means—it's just that I've never been the person he wants to coax.

My name is Clara Kelly. I was born in Brooklyn, into an Irish-American cop’s family. My father spent his whole career walking a beat out of the 84th Precinct. My mother volunteered at the parish. I was the first girl on our block to get into Columbia Law. The year I graduated, I was volunteering at a charity gala. I picked up the wrong glass of wine and ended up dumping it down the front of a man’s Brioni suit. That man was Adrian Francesco Moretti. Fourth-generation Don of the Moretti Family of New York, and one of the five families of Cosa Nostra. He chased me for four years. I said no six times. The seventh time, he stood outside my law firm in the rain until three-fifteen in the morning. I married him. Two decades in, he’d handed me the keys to the entire Moretti Family. In our world they called me “the Irish Donna,” a woman with no Italian blood who somehow held the seat. Childless by choice, the two of us. Famously in love. Until that Wednesday afternoon, when my college roommate of twenty years, my best friend Vivian Sinclair, walked into my living room with a five-year-old boy. She said the boy was Adrian’s son. She said that five years ago, she’d taken a used condom out of the wastebasket in my upstairs master bedroom, kept it frozen for three years, and done IVF. She said she was the real mother of the Moretti heir. She was the real Donna Moretti. “Be smart. Pack your bags and walk out. You might even get to keep your life.” “You’re barren. The Moretti Family doesn’t need you.” I looked at the woman I’d called my best friend for half my adult life. I didn’t say a word. She thought she was holding the winning card. What she didn’t know was that she’d just stepped onto a board Adrian and I had been laying for twenty years. I needed exactly one sentence to shatter every piece of the Donna fantasy she’d spent five years building.

When Mira first set foot in to the city of Bucharest to pursue her studies, she never expected to get involved in a near-fatal accident and get saved by a mysterious man. And she definitely didn’t plan on fantasising about him, only to discover that he is her professor, Izan. The attraction between grows to be undeniable, but Izan kept his distance, hiding a dark secret that could endanger them both. Mira was determined to find out more about him, even if it meant breaking the rules. And their paths intersect once more when she finds Izan injured in an alleyway, and she becomes his caretaker, realising the connection they share goes beyond just physical. But before she can understand their bond, he disappears without a trace, leaving her heartbroken. Week’s pass, and Mira discovers the truth behind Izan’s abrupt departure. Confronted by the reality of his existence, she still finds herself irresistibly drawn to him, despite the startling revelation that he is not human—he is a werewolf. As their worlds collide, secrets unravel, and a forbidden romance blossoms amidst the captivating allure of Bucharest. But their happiness is threatened by a dark force that seeks to destroy them. When Izan becomes the prime suspect of a murder he didn't commit, and Mira must prove his innocence before it's too late. Will they overcome the odds and find their happily ever after? Or will they lose each other in a web of lies and danger? Their journey unfolds, entwining fate, love, and the mystique of the supernatural, promising a destiny neither of them could have foreseen.

My grandfather died on a covert mission, and authorities approved a grand funeral in his honor. Concerned about my grief, my fiancé offered to handle the arrangements. On the day of the funeral, I arrived with my grandfather's ashes, only to find his portrait discarded on the ground, replaced by one of a dog. Furious, I tried to remove it, but my fiancé's adopted sister stopped me. "Hands off that portrait!" Suppressing my fury, I countered, "This is my grandfather's funeral. He was a decorated hero." "So what?" She shrugged, sneering, "Isaac said Luck deserves the grandest send-off. If you've got a problem, take it up with him. Adoring me, he'd cancel your engagement and ditch you in a heartbeat." I laughed incredulously, calling Isaac's family. "You people begged for this engagement. Since when does your adopted daughter get to call it off?"

I always thought my husband, Ryder, was forced to marry me. For six months, he wouldn't touch me. I tried everything. I wore my sexiest lingerie. I guided his hands over my burning skin. I could feel how hard he was, completely out of control. But at the last second, he'd always push me away, gasping. He'd finish me with his fingers instead. My hope died. I decided to leave him. I was ready to accept a top dog trainer position in Europe. The night before I planned to hand him the divorce papers, I heard voices from his study. Ryder, talking to his best friends. "Ryder, you're dying for her, man. So why won't you touch her? Another man's going to snatch her up!" "But she's so fragile..." Ryder's deep voice was filled with pain. "You know... I'm a monster. If she sees what I really am... it will terrify her." His voice dropped to a raw whisper. "If she really needs... comfort... from another man... I can take it. As long as she comes home to me in the end." His friend growled. "Stop! Then maybe stop posting on that encrypted dark web forum, asking for help!" Monster? What did that mean? Late that night, I used his computer. I found a hidden forum called "The Den." A pinned post at the top. Thousands of replies. User ID: Midnight_Howler. One sentence. Dripping with desperation and frantic obsession: "I finally married the girl I've loved for years, but I'm terrified to touch her. How can I survive my rut without hurting her, without her discovering my secret?"