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It was no secret that Lucas, the Alpha of the Redline Pack, had spent ten years pursuing me. He did so patiently and devotedly, never wavering, as if loving me were the only purpose he had in this life. But on the eve of our wedding, one conversation between Lucas and his friend struck me. "You have secretly dated Shane for a while now, but you will Mark Charlotte as your Mate instead?" His friend had asked. "How can the two be the same? How could Shane, a substitute, compare to Charlotte? I might consider keeping her if she behaves herself and doesn't make a scene. Don't worry, Charlotte won't mind," I heard Luca say confidently. But Shane has no intention of behaving. On the day for eh Marking, she stormed the Ritual grounds and pushed me hard making me fall of the center stage unto the grass. Lucas was by her side quickly to protect her not me. Shane had lost all reason from the heart break and had a shard of glass to her her neck. "Choose me or Charlotte right now!" She screamed and I saw Lucas descend into a panic. Shane must have gotten injured in the chaos because I could hear Lucas shouting to clear the way and let him pass, saying he needed to rush Charlotte to a hospital. But I was hurt as well, yet he did not care. "If anything happens to her, you will all pay the price," he had declared. Those words shattered my heart and was the beginning of the end. I now know what to do—booking a ticket and left him forever.

Her silky hair was a mess. Her makeup, ruined. Her dress wrinkled like she slept on it. She was there, but her mind, elsewhere. Her eyes went to me. Her lips curled into a lazy smile. In every step she gave, my heart sank thinking she would fall. “What happened to you? Are you okay?” I rushed towards her. Her face twisted with disgust. “Oh, perfect Bella. The golden girl. Always correct. Always the best.” “What…” “Perfect Bella. Has the best grades. She doesn't have to fight to get into college, colleges fight over her.” “Emma, you are drunk.” “Perfect Bella doesn't drink. She is as pure as water. Saint Bella.” Her eyes glinted. “Perfect Bella doesn't sleep with her best friend's husband.” My body froze as a wave of chill ran through my spine. “What… what are you talking about?” She leaned in, her breath thick with alcohol, “Where do you think Marcus is? Why do you think I can barely walk straight? Is it hard to believe he took me and not you to that bad that was supposed to be yours?” My heart clenched. Tears started forming in my eyes. It didn't take long till they gave up to gravity. He… he didn't. We'd promised this morning. He couldn't. “He wouldn't.” ***** It's been a year, but the scars are still there. My past echoing in my head reminding me of everything that happened since that day. Every time I open my eyes in the morning to see... nothing. “You only get hurt by the ones you love the most.” “You only get betrayed by the ones you trust the most.” What happens when these two misbeliefs collide? ***** I hope I wrote this book good enough to make you feel it. Obrigada.☺️

Blurb: She signed the divorce papers. He never signed away his obsession. Veronica Stanford was the perfect wife—devoted, patient, and hopelessly in love. But when her billionaire husband, Jason Harper, trades her in for her treacherous best friend, Rhea, Veronica’s world shatters. Broken and betrayed, she drowns her sorrows in a bar, only to be saved by a dangerously alluring stranger with emerald-green eyes and a lethal reputation: Monte "Four" Zagcanni, the ruthless heir to a mafia empire. Four is everything Jason isn’t—dark, dangerous, and devastatingly protective. When Veronica discovers she’s pregnant with Jason’s child, she strikes a deal with Four: a fake marriage to shield her from scandal. But what starts as a cold arrangement ignites into a passion neither can resist. Jason, realizing his mistake too late, wants Veronica back—along with the son he never knew existed. But Four isn’t a man who surrenders what’s his. And Veronica? She’s done being the meek wife. Betrayal runs deep. Revenge burns hotter. As secrets unravel—her father’s bloody past, Rhea’s twisted obsession, and Jason’s deadly lies—Veronica must decide: trust the man who destroyed her once, or surrender to the devil who might destroy her forever. One wants her back. The other wants her forever. And neither plays nice.

Sophie Warner and Mitchell Warner have been secretly married for three years, but he's rumored to be with other women throughout. He doesn't care about Sophie at all.Her love for him makes her lowly, and she loses sight of herself. She puts up a cold and strong front to protect herself while thinking that her love is bound to move Mitchell one day.But she gives up hope when, one day, she lies in a puddle of her blood and begs Mitchell for help, only to see him ignoring her so he can be lovey-dovey with another woman.Later, she dies.It's only then that the city learns about Mitchell, the playboy, having been secretly married for years. After her death, he goes insane…Five years later, the mysterious daughter of an affluent family returns to the country. When Mitchell, who'd lost his mind years ago, sees her, his eyes turn red.He pins her to the wall and says, "You said you'd be by my side forever, Cherie…"

คีย์ อัครเดช นันทวัฒน์ ชายหนุ่มหน้าหล่อ ที่อกหักจากรักแรก เพราะน้องสาวเพื่อนรักหักหลัง ทำให้เกิดความแค้นกับสองพี่น้อง เพื่อแก้แค้นเขายอมทำทุกอย่างโดยไม่สนอะไรทั้งนั้น “เธอโทษพี่ไม่ได้นะใบชาเรื่องทั้งหมดเธอเป็นคนผิด” ใบชา ธารณินท์ ศิลานนท์ สาวหน้าหมวยที่มีนิสัยไม่ยอมคนแต่ยอมเขาคนเดียว ไม่ว่าเขาจะใจร้ายกับเธอมากแค่ไหนเธอก็ยังรักเขาเสมอ “พี่คีย์อยากทำอะไรกับชาก็แล้วแต่ใจพี่”

Arkadewi Lintang Bestari--menghirup napas di bumi ini selama dua puluh tiga tahun, tetapi belum pernah sekalipun mengenalkan seorang kekasih kepada keluarga karena larangan dari orang tuanya. Caraka Altair Abimana--terpaksa kembali ke Indonesia lebih cepat dari perjanjiannya dengan keluarga Bestari untuk mengurus istrinya yang tidak tahu-menahu tentang pernikahan mereka. Mengapa Arka tidak tahu kalau dirinya sudah menikah? Perjanjiaan apa yang dimiliki Caraka dengan keluarga Bestari?

My fiancé's older brother was into girls with tiny waists. He wanted to marry my foster sister—the one with the twenty-one-inch waist. Their wedding? Same day Eric and I were supposed to get hitched. When he found out, Eric begged me to swap with Briana. "Lena, it's always been Briana. If your family hadn't found you, she wouldn't have had to play fake heiress, and I wouldn't be stuck with you." I stayed quiet. He kept digging. "Chill. My brother won't even touch you. Once the dust settles, I'll bring you back—as my side piece." Staring at that fake, slimy smile, I felt a little out of it. Last time, I told him no—and still ended up married to him, beaten until I died. Then I woke up. Same day. Same plea from Eric. This time, I handed them exactly what they wanted. "Fine. I'll marry him." Eric lit up like he'd won. Didn't last long. Next thing I knew, he was out in the rain, on his knees, clutching his head, sobbing, begging me to leave his brother and come back.

To "fix" Leonard Rinehart's oh-so-tragic depression, Naomi Gaffron—yeah, the same girl who once swore she'd only ever marry me—secretly tied the knot with him. So I gave in. Played along with the family's little matchmaking stunt. Married Aurelia Spencer—Brieton City's golden girl who'd been obsessed with me since forever. For seven years, she clung to me like I was oxygen. Every night, curled up like she'd break if I moved. I thought that was happiness. Then one night, I caught her whispering to her best friend: "Leonard's already got international awards. When are you dumping Leone?" "Whatever—I'm stuck with someone I don't love anyway. Doesn't matter who I married. Someone's gotta keep an eye on Leone so he doesn't screw up everything Leonard built." I checked her study. Found a hidden folder—over 100,000 photos of Leonard. A hundred unsent love letters. Even I couldn't fake it anymore. Bought a silicone dummy. Laid out the plan. The fire would be step one. Dead or alive—we're done.

For my birthday, my husband, Don Damien, gave me his dead wife’s pearls. I wore them to the dinner party. My enraged stepson, Leo, doused me in red wine. I became the laughingstock of the party. “You whore,” he hissed. “You think wearing my mother’s jewelry makes you her?” He stared at me, his eyes cold as ice. Then he screamed. "Get out of my house." But his mother died when he was a baby. I raised him. Someone had whispered poison in his ear. They told him I was the one who killed his mother. Now he thinks I'm a scheming bitch who tricked his father. And his father? My husband? He never saw me. He only saw Krista’s ghost. My heart didn't break. It shattered. They didn't love me. They didn't even care. So I walked. Then why, after I was finally gone, did they come crawling back, begging me to return?

Post - Apocalyptic Horror | Action | Yuri Harem | 18+ | Rated R | Mature Content | Slow Pace It started with a kiss I don’t remember giving. A rooftop. A moan. Someone’s fingers buried in my hair like they belonged there. A mouth on my throat that said I tasted like something they lost in another life. I wasn’t dreaming. The city was already cracking beneath me. Power grids flickering like dying stars. Tech failing. Screens static. The sky bruising in strange new colors. Everyone said it was coincidence. Collapse. Noise. But I knew better. The moment I felt her breath on my skin — even if I couldn’t see her — I knew the end had already arrived. And I had something to do with it. Ten butterflies followed me after that. Not literal ones. Not always. They shimmered in my periphery. Each the wrong color. Each too vivid. Each drawn to me like heat to blood. They touched me in dreams. They watched me when I undressed. They whispered without words. I could taste their want. Some called me cursed. Broken. Unstable. But the truth is simpler. I’m blooming again — and they all feel it. They don’t love me. They remember me. They remember what I used to be — what I still am, underneath the silence. One of them burned me with just a kiss. One broke my spine with kindness. One slid her hand under my shirt like it was always hers. One cries when she touches me. One never speaks, but her eyes dig. One wants to keep me. One wants to ruin me. And one just wants to finish what we started. They think I’m choosing. I’m not. My body already did. And now the bloom inside me is turning darker.