Kindle Paperwhite And Case Novels & Stories

Aubrey works for the national intelligence service and is often assigned various tasks that require her to go undercover—hiding her identity in order to complete her investigations. But just when it was time for her to go on her paid leave, an order from above came in. She was asked to infiltrate the werewolves’ pack because a serial murder case had been linked to the werewolves. Her job was to find who the killer may be, and her suspect happens to be the Alpha of the pack. Aubrey was thrilled but also afraid about her new quest at the same time, because she knew how dangerous werewolves could be. And she knew they wouldn't spare her once her cover was blown. So, she did everything possible to camouflage herself, ensuring her mission could be successful without putting her life in danger. She picked the best disguise she could think of—changing her gender. Alpha Logan knew there was something off about the new secretary who was hired for him. He could smell his mate distinctively on him, but being a straight guy, he felt maybe his new secretary must be related to his mate, so he decided to get close to him and find out how he was related to the mate he had been dying to meet. Will Alpha Logan be able to detect that Aubrey is actually his mate disguised as a male? Or will Aubrey be able to keep her cover from getting blown by doing a perfect and clean job before disappearing from the pack? Or does the moon goddess have another plan prepared for them?

“Do you know what arousal tastes like, little wolf?” The rich deepness of his voice dripped into her ears like honey. His grip on her thighs was firm, scalding, even as her legs wrapped around him. Those emerald eyes darkened with a hunger that ignited every heat pore inside of her. Behind her, Evander’s lean athletic figure pressed against her back, sandwiching her between them. His face buried deep in her neck and the messy red hair sending tingles down her spine with every brush against her cheek. “I'll tell you,” he rasped, answering his brother's question. “It tastes like submission... salt, sweat, and the sweet little whimpers she tries to hide from us.” ****** Rochelle thought agreeing to an open relationship with her long-time crush would bring her closer to love, until he leaked a private video and humiliated her in front of the entire school. Heartbroken and furious, she turns to the last people anyone would expect: the cold, dangerous Rogue Princes, her new stepbrothers and Darren’s worst enemies. They agree to help her destroy him… but only if she plays their twisted game. Fake romance by day and their dirty little secret by night. But they say you should never make a deal with the devil because he won't stop until there's nothing left of you. In her case, there were three of them. And the worst thing she did was fall for them.

When I married mafia don Paul Garcia, I was twenty-two, and he was thirty-two. By day, he was the cold, dangerous king of the underworld. By night, he was my daddy. Everyone in New Haven knew how much he loved me. I casually mentioned I disliked the ballerina competing with me for the principal role. The next day, she “accidentally” broke her leg and never returned to the stage. One night, I craved pasta from a specific restaurant. Without a word, he led his men into the kitchen, pressed a gun to the chef’s head, and forced him to recreate the dish overnight. I once joked about wanting to sleep among the clouds. He turned around, had the building of a rival family blown up, then bought the tallest one in the city and engraved my name on the top floor. However, in bed, he would exhaust me completely and refuse to let me go. Even when the doctor warned that I was in early pregnancy and needed restraint, he ignored my cries, tied my wrists with his tie, and went on until dawn. The next day, I started bleeding. I called him ninety-nine times, yet he rejected every single call. In my panic, I suddenly received a video from my best friend. “Emily, your don is pinning a woman down and kissing her at the bar of the Four Seasons in Moscovia.” When I opened the video, my heart stopped. The man was Paul, and the woman was my aunt. In that case, I’ll give him two gifts when he comes back: an abortion report and a divorce agreement.

While we were scuba diving, my boyfriend, Raphael Carlisle, ripped off my oxygen mask and put it on his childhood friend, Lucia Fairchild, whose mask had started leaking. I was left thrashing helplessly in the freezing water. Just as I thought it was over, Raphael's younger brother, Gabriel Carlisle, swam over, breathed life into me, and brought me back to the surface. After he saved me, he presented me with the purple diamond ring he designed himself and proposed, "For as long as I live, I'll never let you face danger again." I believed that he was my one true love, so I married him, leaving my job behind to focus on starting a family. On the day Lucia was given a critical condition notice, I ended up in a car accident. As I lay half-conscious on the hospital bed, I overheard Gabriel talking with Raphael. "Get a doctor to induce labor right away! Lucia's illness can only be treated with a stem cell transplant from umbilical cord blood. The only reason I got Phoebe pregnant was for this very day." "But she's carrying our bloodline! How could you have someone hit her with a car?" Raphael yelled. Gabriel replied, "Lucy matters more to me! As for Phoebe, I can spoil her rotten once she wakes up." At that moment, I realized the love I held on to was nothing but a lie. If that was the case, I'd just leave.

“I know you’re pregnant, Valentina. That’s why you have to die tonight. Two lives for the price of one. Efficiency was always my strong suit.” On her third wedding anniversary, Valentina is gifted a shallow grave. Her husband, Kennedy, was never a billionaire. He was a fraud who drugged her, watched her drown in a poisoned bath, and buried her so he could marry his mistress. He never expected the gardener to hesitate. Never imagined she would claw her way out of the mud, pregnant, broken, and alive. And he certainly didn’t expect her to return. Dragged from the storm by Ian Kingston, a titan so powerful Kennedy is nothing more than a disposable employee, Valentina finds herself mistaken for Misha, Ian’s vanished wife. “You have 365 days to prove you aren’t her, little bird. Until then, you wear my name, share my bed, and follow my rules.” Trapped in a ruthless case of mistaken identity, Valentina signs the contract and becomes Misha Kingston, cold, untouchable, wrapped in emerald silk and Ian’s dangerous protection. The next time Kennedy sees the wife he buried, she isn’t in a coffin. She’s on his boss’s arm. Wearing a crown. Looking down at him from a throne he can never touch. But Valentina hides a child conceived by her enemy… While being claimed by a king who refuses to let her go. He buried a wife. Now he’ll kneel before a goddess.

The morning was cold and I was currency. My father handed me to Dimitri Volkov, Bratva, like I was a contract clause. I said no at the altar. Loud enough for everyone to hear. The priest kept going. Dimitri didn’t even blink. That was fact one: I was married without consent, in Chicago, to a man who accepted silence as agreement. I left him later. Not in rage. In clarity, after I saw another girl get caught in his world with no choice, just like me. Then I went to war. Law school had taught me precision, so I used it. Civil suits. Asset forfeiture. Anonymous tips to the right agencies. I took apart everything legitimate he’d built, piece by piece, until he bled territories and pride. He showed up bruised once, signed over forty percent of his clean empire to my name, brought therapy receipts. That was fact two: I dismantled the man who caged me, on paper, without firing a shot. I still have the necklace. The one he left in my lap that first night. I wore it through the worst, through the year I rebuilt alone, through every hearing. Last month I was pregnant in a courtroom, arguing a case I won. He was in the gallery. The diamonds sat above my collar. No one asked. I never explained. That was fact three: I took something from that night and made it mine. It doesn’t belong to him anymore. It doesn’t belong to what he did. It belongs to me.

It was not easy for me to be home for the long holidays, but my father ordered me to do the dishes after dinner. I was taken aback. "Don't you have a caregiver at home?" My mother frowned. "It's been hard on Harry to be taking care of us every day. Since you're home, you should let him take a rest, and do all the housework." I could not understand this. "But I paid a lot of money to hire him to take care of you and the housework. Why am I doing the work I paid him to do?" My words caused Harry Lambert to tear up, and they angered my parents as well. My mother frowned. "What's the point of bringing you up when we hardly see you in a year. At least Harry is considerate enough to stay by our side and take care of us." As for my father, he pointed at my nose. "You don't need to waste your time coming back anymore. Harry will be our son from now on! You can just get out and do whatever you want!" I smiled in exasperation. Work had been extremely busy for me, but I still gave my parents a handsome monthly allowance. Even the caregiver cost a lot of money, but they ended up treating him like he was something precious. If that were the case, I would stop paying for everything. I wanted to see if the caregiver would still be willing to act as their son and work for free.

I got into a car accident on my way to celebrate my daughter, Anna Chapman's birthday. When I wake up, I stare at my family, who has my bed surrounded. Then, I decide to crack a joke. "Sorry, but who are you people?" I do my best to suppress my smile as I look forward to how my family will comfort me now that I'm "amnesiac". Will my dad and my wife hold my hands out of heartbreak? Or will Anna rush over to hug me while crying for me? What I don't expect is that my family actually heaves sighs of relief after their initial shock. My dad is the first one to speak up, his tone tinged with relief. "It's a good thing that you've forgotten about your past. The truth is, you're the adopted son of the Gray family. Calvin is the actual heir of the Grays." My wife, Yvonne Stewart, points at me while telling Anna, "You should address him as Uncle Damian." Before I can recover from my shock, I see Anna, who I've risked my life to protect, run into Calvin Gray, the fake heir's arms. "Daddy, I was out having fun the whole day! Oh, I've missed you so much!" It turns out that my family wants nothing more than for me to lose my memories. In that case, I might as well abandon everything that's fake in my life.

After I refused to donate my uterus to my older sister, Madeline Holloway, my childhood sweetheart grew to hate me. He plotted to send me into the bed of the top heir of Highcrest's elite circle. The heir's desires were intense, but he despised women who threw themselves at him. Everyone waited to see my downfall. Instead, he spoiled me beyond measure. Three years into our marriage, he loved getting his hands on me whenever he could—the balcony, the kitchen, the car, even at glamorous banquets. I could barely step into the restroom before he'd follow, pinning me against the sink. We never used contraception. Alas, I never got pregnant. It wasn't until the day I went to the hospital, thinking I might be expecting, that I overheard his conversation with the doctor. "Winston, you had me secretly transplant Madison's uterus into her sister three years ago. Now you want me to lie and tell her she's infertile? How can you be so cruel to a woman who loves you?" "I had no choice. Madeline's marriage will be on the rocks if she can't bear children. Madison's uterus was the only match." The familiar male voice sounded so icy and unrecognizable just then. That was when I realized the love and salvation I trusted without question were nothing but another lie. If that was the case… it was time for me to make my exit.