Kindle Paperwhite Operating Instructions

He left me bleeding on an operating table while he wined and dined my replacement. Three months later, Julian Voss has everything: the heiress with "proven fertility," our penthouse, his perfect life. I have nothing. Until I meet Damien Hale the billionaire rival Julian destroyed eight years ago. The enemy who's been waiting for the perfect weapon. Me. One proposition: Pretend to be his wife. He'll give me everything I need to burn Julian's empire to ashes. But revenge gets complicated when Damien's possessive touch makes Julian's jaw clench with jealousy. When our fake marriage starts feeling dangerously real. When the man who was supposed to be my tool becomes the one thing I can't control. Julian's begging now, destroying his perfect life trying to win me back. He doesn't know I'm not his anymore. I'm the weapon they both created. And when the ashes settle, only one man will have me.

Everyone in the city knows Lena Moore award-winning investigative journalist, fearless, sharp-tongued, and impossible to intimidate. She’s built a career exposing powerful men and tearing down corrupt empires. What she doesn’t know is that the quiet man she keeps running into at her neighborhood café Eli Carter, the one who listens more than he talks, who fixes broken chairs for free and always smells faintly of ink and rain is one of those men. Eli isn’t just rich. He’s the silent owner of multiple companies, operating behind shell boards and faceless executives after his family was destroyed by public attention years ago. He chose anonymity over dominance. Their connection grows slowly. Conversations about ethics, loneliness, and truth. Late-night walks. Shared silences. Real intimacy. Then Lena is assigned a career-defining investigation. She’s hunting a mysterious billionaire whose companies are quietly reshaping the country. She’s hunting him.

Under the Moon Goddess, I was once the happiest Luna of the Black Pack. Alpha Mike cherished me, cradled me in his palms, and bestowed upon me a name and glory. But on that day— I lay on the operating table as he slit open my abdomen himself, offering my liver to his white moonlight, Lina. My husband held Lina’s hand, whispering tenderly in her ear: "Don’t be afraid. Anna’s life is worthless—yours is the one that matters." As the anesthesia wore off, agony seared through me. The doctor gasped: "She’s in her differentiation phase! Forcing the surgery will cripple her for life!" Yet Mike didn’t even glance back, leaving with Lina in his arms: "Just an Omega. Saving you is her privilege." Later, I knelt before the witch Jery, trading all my memories for freedom. When Mike stormed into the shop, roaring at my amnesiac, bubble-blowing self— I shrank into the witch’s arms, trembling: "Sister… who is this madman?" His eyes burned crimson as he tore our contract to shreds.

To snatch a limited-edition piece of jewelry for his mistress, my blind brother was shoved down a flight of stairs. Ethan Sterling, one of the best surgeons in the country, refused to enter the operating room — all because of a tiny cut on his precious sweetheart's finger. He forged a forensic report and bought Daniel's life for a mere fifty thousand dollars. Even my own daughter turned against me: "You're a liar! Aunt Vivian is the best person in the whole world!" Later, in front of everyone, I stepped off the third-floor terrace and plunged into the void. Ethan Sterling lost his mind. He knelt by the river for three days and three nights, clawing his fingers raw against the stone. A year later, desperate to save his daughter from going blind, he knelt in a downpour begging that mysterious, world-renowned surgeon. I stood there holding my umbrella, utterly unmoved. "I'm afraid you have the wrong person, Mr. Sterling. Miss Holloway died a year ago." "I'm Mrs. Ashford. I'm here to acquire Sterling Medical."

**Her Rock Sequel** Agape: noun. 1. The highest form of love. Selfless, sacrificial, and unconditional love; persists no matter the circumstance. One year later Ella and Declan are seniors. One year later Julian is locked up and Hayes is nowhere in sight. One year later Ella and Declan believe they can breathe again without having to glance over their shoulders every other second. This year Ella Emerson has rekindled her love for soccer after facing her past that tragically tore her apart. She has Declan Anderson by her side, the boy who mended her shattered pieces, and the same boy she's given her whole heart to. At last, life is safe again, their love is growing by the second, and now all they have to worry about is loads of homework. Or so they thought. As days pass, peculiar things begin to happen. But when these peculiar things become a pattern can they really keep brushing them off as coincidences? It doesn't take long until the past they thought they conquered sneaks up on them and begins to fiddle with their relationship. Lies arise, fights kindle, tension flares. Will they be able to take each individual punch thrown at them? Or will they crumble when things surpass the limits of difficult? * He then looks into my eyes, his face displaying all kinds of emotions. "Thank you," He whispers. "You're my Ellie, you know that right?" His thumb brushes along my face, setting fire ablaze wherever he touches. "Always my Ellie." My Ellie. Words don't seem to come out, my mouth agape. Always.

My husband's childhood friend says she wants her crystal beads to soak up some of the good luck in our home. Because of that, he scatters the beads on the floor, making me slip and miscarry. I'm in agony as I lie on the operating table. I call my husband incessantly, but all he does is block my number. I lie in the hospital ward after the operation. I see my husband's childhood friend's social media update—a photo of him worshipfully holding out a certificate while getting down on one knee. It's captioned, "He loves me so much! I said I'm interested in running a business and he actually set up a company for me!" On the day of the branch company's grand opening, my husband's childhood friend wears an expensive custom-made gown. Meanwhile, I wear her discarded goods. I'm barred from even entering the building. I suppress my bitterness and call my lawyer. "Are the divorce procedures done?"

"You have the hands of a goddess," he rasped, his blood staining my operating table. Even with three bullets in his chest, his grey eyes held nothing but command. He was Damian Volkov, the Bratva's heir, and I was the off-the-grid surgeon who just saved his life. "And you have a bill to pay," I told him, tying the final suture. His laugh was a dark, dangerous sound. "Oh, Doctor. I don't deal in cash." His hand closed around my wrist, not with force, but with the chilling certainty of ownership. "You belong to me now." He dragged me from the shadows of my clinic to his gilded cage high above the Vegas Strip. He thinks he's claimed a simple doctor. He has no idea I'm Evelyn Reed, daughter of a murdered senator, hiding secrets that could burn his entire world to the ground. He wants my submission. My skills. My body. But in this game of secrets and seduction, the most dangerous weapon isn't the gun in his hand. It's the scalpel in mine.

Ever since she was two, Elara Vane became her twin sister's personal blood bank after the girl was diagnosed with a rare genetic defect. Doctors predicted her sister wouldn't live past eighteen, so her parents and brother doted on her, putting her first in everything. They even blamed Elara, accusing her of "stealing" her sister's nutrients in the womb, claiming it made her sickly. In her past life, no one in the family loved her. Only her fiancé, Dante, truly stayed by her side. But Elara never expected Dante's love had its own agenda. Until her sister accidentally fell off a cliff and needed a full blood transfusion. Dante signed the consent form without hesitation, sending her to the operating table to be the donor. As her blood drained and her consciousness faded, Elara swore that in another life, she would never be her sister's blood bag again! The next time she opened her eyes, she was back to the day after her engagement to Dante...

In the quiet, affluent suburb of Ashford Grove outside Minneapolis, power wears philanthropy like perfume. Emily Hart grew up believing her mother died in an accident tied to a wealthy family’s private gathering. Fifteen years later, armed with letters written before her mother’s death, Emily returns to Minnesota determined to uncover the truth behind the Richardson empire — a dynasty known for charity, influence, and untouchable prestige. What she finds is not just corruption, but ritual. Not just silence, but a system built on sacrifice. When she uncovers financial records linking her mother’s death to a secret covenant operating beneath the Richardson Foundation, Emily discovers something even more destabilizing: a hidden adoption, sealed for years, connecting her to Alexander Cole — a young financial analyst unknowingly raised inside the very structure that destroyed their mother. As alliances fracture and secrets rise to the surface, Emily must decide whether truth is worth the destruction it brings. In a city that survives through reputation and silence, what happens when the shadow is finally named?

I paid Curtis Robinett 200 thousand dollars a month to be a standby blood donor. My fiancée, Eden May, thought it was a waste of money. So she reassigned him to work part-time as her personal assistant instead. When Curtis accidentally submitted my marriage license appointment as a divorce filing for the 99th time, I kicked open Eden's office door. She didn't even look up. "We're in no rush to get married anyway," she said calmly. "Curtis is just careless. That's how he's always been." Later, in the emergency room, I called Eden while doctors rushed around me, my throat shredded from yelling. "Where's my emergency medical kit?" I rasped. "What did you do with it?" Curtis answered instead, his voice warm and smug. "You mean the expensive leather bag you kept in the cabinet? I swapped it out for a large party snack box. It holds everything just fine, and honestly, it looks a lot more cheerful. "Ms. May's brother and sister-in-law are both career soldiers. Your bag didn't really match that image, so I thought this would be more appropriate." My vision dimmed. My hands shook as I told Curtis to come donate blood. Eden laughed softly and cut in, "Stop pretending you're anemic just to get attention. If you're actually sick, deal with it. You're at the hospital; I think the doctors are fully capable of keeping you alive. Curtis is afraid of needles. He's not coming." Then, she hung up. She didn't appear until the surgical lights finally went dark. "Curtis had me bring you chocolate milk," she said. "It's good for recovery. It's not that he didn't want to help. He just faints at the sight of blood." She placed a settlement waiver on my bed. "I was the one who told him not to come. That 200-thousand-dollar monthly salary is his pay as my assistant. It has nothing to do with you. You didn't have to call the police for that. Sign this, and I'll go get the marriage license with you." I thought of what I had just seen in the operating room. Eden's brother, Harvey May, was bleeding out on the operating table, waiting for a lifesaving drug that never came. In the final moments of surgery, he could do nothing but lie there and die. I looked at her and said evenly, "You're the immediate family. It's not my place to sign that."