I Spy With My Little Eye

My sister, Bella, had a baby in a back-alley shithole. Then she disappeared. A midwife tracked me down using an address Bella left behind. She shoved the newborn at me like a sack of garbage. My parents fell to their knees. Crying. Begging me to take her bastard. Just like that, my future as a promising artist was gone. The neighbors, the priest, my landlord… they all called me a whore. A sinner who had disgraced God. They ran me out of the neighborhood . My life was over. Eighteen years later, Bella waltzed back into my life. A cheap thug with a fake Rolex dangled from her arm. She held my son, crocodile tears streaming down her face. She called me jealous. Accused me of stealing her flesh and blood. Of keeping a mother from her child. And my son? The one I bled myself dry for? The son I poured every last cent into, turning him into a brilliant painter? The son I starved for, so much that I ended up in a hospital bed? The moment he saw his "real" mother, he cast me aside without a second thought. "You pathetic, broke bitch!" he spat. "You stole everything from us! All the happiness that was supposed to be ours!" My parents threw me out like a dog. Bella's thug husband had his men corner me in the red-light district. They pinned me against a wall, their threats vile and clear: Never come back. I had no way out. I threw myself off the Brooklyn Bridge. Then, I opened my eyes. I was back. Eighteen years in the past. Then came the knock. Hell had found my door. I wasn’t going to be the fool who gave everything and got nothing. This time, I took control.

Mom, Dad, and Jesse—my younger sister—went out to sea on a trip, but they were caught in a tsunami, and all three perished in the accident. I was left all alone—just as I was about to start university—burdened with nothing but a mountain of debt. In the end, everything I had saved for my university tuition, along with the house Mom and Dad had left me, was taken by debt collectors. I was then forced to work in a shady factory, laboring 16 hours a day, sleeping in a shabby ten-person dorm, and surviving on nothing but thin, flavorless broth. I finally cleared the last of the debt when I accidentally discovered that Jesse—who was supposed to be dead—had appeared on television and become a famous dancer. Mom and Dad even gave an interview about her success. It turned out they had taken out a massive loan and faked their deaths to flee to Pravia for Jesse's dance studies, leaving the entire debt for me to deal with just as I was supposed to start university. I went to confront them, demanding the truth, but they threw me out like trash. I was then hit and killed by a speeding truck at the side of the road. "How could Lorraine be such a nuisance, not even having the decency to die far away from our doorstep?" I have been given another chance, reborn on the day they faked their deaths.

The day my son gained the lifetime achievement award in research, I died alone on the street. On stage, he thanked his father, a professor, and his biological mother, who had just returned from abroad. He even thanked the nanny at home. But he left me out, his foster mother who had raised him. My husband, Charles Zimmer, learned about my death. He immediately disassociated himself from me. “We’ve long separated. I’ve got nothing to do with her.” I had worked hard to give them a decent life, but they regarded me as a stain that they could never remove. When I opened my eyes again, I returned to the time of my life when my destiny changed. Holding the college admission letter, Charles smiled at me and said, “Yes, I’m divorced. But we can live in the city together if you marry me. I’ll let you discipline the kid if he makes any mistakes. I won’t complain about you.” During my previous life, he had me fooled by false promises. I naively thought that it would be easy to be a stepmother. I helped him care for his son and worked hard to support the family. In the end, they conspired with each other to drive me out and leave me penniless. It was because Charles’ ex-wife, who had abandoned them when he was poor, wanted to come home and remarry him. Since I had gained a second chance, I planned to dump such an ungrateful husband and son.

My mom, who works as a lawyer, decides to take me to court just because I refuse to donate my platelets to my younger sister, Lindsey Finch. I explained to her that I have a blood clotting disorder, and having an extremely low platelet count would put my life at risk. But she screamed at me through tears: “Can’t you just stop pretending? Do you really have to let your sister die? How could I have raised such an ungrateful wretch?” I lost the case, and my platelets were forcibly taken. I suffered a massive hemorrhage and died a miserable death alone in a deserted corner.

My wife went viral by copying someone else. After some netizens shamed her looks, she became obsessed with plastic surgery. Eventually, an illegal clinic tricked her into spending thirty thousand dollars, claiming they could make her into a celebrity. She even forced me to fund her dream by feeding our daughter pesticides. However, I knew that the clinic used implants from stolen corpses. Before long, her face would start to rot. I spent ages convincing her to choose a professional cosmetic hospital instead, saving her life. Later, though, her best friend became an internet star after undergoing plastic surgery. In comparison, my wife’s appearance had only improved slightly after the cosmetic treatment. In a fit of jealousy, she burned my daughter and me alive. “It’s your fault I couldn’t make it big! You deserve to die!” When I next opened my eyes, I returned to the day my wife asked me for money.

My ex cheated. So I had a one-night stand with a hottie who thought I was a stripper, only to find out he’s my boss, and now, he’s obsessed with me! ***** When Zoey Anderson served her cheating husband divorce papers, everyone believed that this was the end of her. “She is done for.” They said, “No other man would ever want her again.” “She’d better go back and ask for his forgiveness. Maybe he’ll take her back.” But Zoey will do none of that, despite being heartbroken. Especially not now that she’s glowing up, and has got her hot boss—Christian Gallo—chasing after her. With Christine in her life, Zoey faces even more trials that come with this hot sex god who would give the world just to have her. From Christine’s malicious ex-wife, Zoey’s obsessive ex-husband who wants her back, and his side chic who wouldn’t stop breathing down Zoey’s neck, things don’t seem all so rosy within these scandalous, beautiful walls of Beverly Hills. Is Zoey’s life getting hotter or uglier? Can she survive this? ~~~~ Christine Gallo is that snack that nearly every girl wants to have a taste of. Zoey isn’t his type of woman. She’s crazy. A walking chaos. But why does he still find himself drawn to her despite everything? Who really is this Zoey Anderson, and why is she effortlessly pulling at his heartstrings and… cock-strings? Read to find out! WARNING: Contains nudity and explicit mature themes. Not suitable for readers under 18.

"A moment? I am your fucking wife! Not once in my life have I seen you this happy while sleeping with me and this whore…" “Don't you dare call my woman….” “Your woman?” I picked the pen and signed the papers, “... Five years of marriage resulted in nothing! No child, no love, nothing! You are a disgrace to manhood itself yet they claim you are their king.” I threw the papers in his face and left. __ Rosalind is an orphan who had grown up with her foster parents, compared to other girls her age, She was treated differently amongst her pair Rosalind was sure she was unfortunate but one morning she got a visitor who claimed she was his mate and wanted to marry her. Rosalind was confused as she didn't understand anything and soon enough she realized werewolves were real and he was known other than the Alpha King Rosalind considered herself lucky and after few months she fell in love with him and married him little did she know that she had gotten herself entangled to a life a dreaded, Read to find out how Rosalind paddles through the travails life throws at her when the Alpha King decides to show who he truly was.

Leonora Bardwell’s life is turned upside down completely when her husband, Evan Montague, betrays her and steals all her fortune, leaving her with nothing but their son behind. Years later, Leonora manages to locate him, but he is now a powerful man with another identity and is engaged to another woman, the daughter of a powerful werewolf moghul, Phillippa Montgomery. Leonora infiltrates every aspect of his life to make him pay for what he did to her, however, Evan is still the same man who won her heart all those years ago. Will she lose herself while seeking revenge? Will she overestimate her abilities to objectively ruin his life? Or will she succeed and bring down the man who caused her so much harm?

"Rule number one, Elodie: You are a guest in my home, not a ghost in my bed. Stay out of my sight, and I might forget you’re the reason my sister is a rebel." Elodie Hart has spent six years running from the shadow of Victor Blackwood—the cold, calculating Alpha King and the overprotective older brother of her best friend, Camille. To the world, he is a billionaire titan; to Elodie, he is the man who had her arrested and banished for being a "bad influence." But when Camille "borrows" the keys to Victor’s private mountain villa for a girls' getaway, the ultimate trespass turns into a midnight nightmare. Victor arrives, unannounced and furious, smelling not just of rain and power, but of a primal pull that screams one terrifying truth: She is his fated mate. In a moment of reckless hate fueled by years of repressed desire, the feud explodes into a white-hot, one-night stand that should have stayed a secret. But Victor doesn’t do secrets—he does possession. He claims her as his "dirty little secret," refusing to let her go while simultaneously denying her the title of Luna. He wants her in his bed, but out of his pack’s history. However, the Moon Goddess has a twisted sense of humor. One night of forbidden passion has left Elodie with a secret of her own—a heartbeat that shouldn't exist in her "barren" body. With a rival Alpha circling her like a predator and Camille beginning to suspect the truth, Elodie must navigate a world of pack politics and betrayal. Can she survive being the Alpha’s greatest obsession, or will the weight of their secret destroy the only family she has left?

By day, Isabella is a ghost—a hardworking cleaner scrubbing the floors of the elite, desperate to fund her mother’s life-saving medical treatments. By night, she is the "Little Secret" of the city’s most exclusive escort ring. She’s numb to the touch, tired of the game, and ready for it all to end. ​Until she steps into the back of a black Rolls Royce. ​Her client is Alexander Sterling—a man whose name is synonymous with power and whose family owns half the skyline she cleans by day. Isabella expected a cold transaction; she expected to be used and discarded. But in the dim light of a luxury penthouse, Alexander is different. He isn't just a client; he's a storm of gentleness and unexpected intimacy. ​In a moment of raw, unprotected passion, the lines between business and pleasure blur. But Alexander doesn't know the girl in his bed is the same one who empties his office trash can—and Isabella doesn't know that some secrets are impossible to keep.