L From Death Note Costume

Emma Baker hates her life. She is a poor werewolf Omega who lives in a trailer with her terrible family. Her mother despises her because she is the child she wished she never had, and her father is an aging gambler who is forcing his daughter to work as a waitress to pay off his debt to their Alpha, Jackson. Emma wants to escape from her harsh life but knows living as a rogue wouldn't be any easier for her. The only solution she can see is to end her own life, but then she meets Alpha Reed, and everything changes. He is the Alpha of another pack and her destined mate. There is only a slight problem: a bond between an Omega and an Alpha is unheard of, especially since an Omega can't bear children and produce an heir. The werewolf council would never allow their mating, but all wise people know forbidden love tastes the best. And it seems the council doesn't know everything because Emma is pregnant.

I met a boy when he was eight years old. I never believed that the boy with the incredible blue eyes would be my future husband. We grew up and promised to have a life together, which happened. There was nothing to predict that something terrible would happen on my wedding day. Heartbroken, I now find myself at a crossroads. Should I continue with the wedding, respecting our prenuptial agreement? Should I leave him at the altar for having damaged our bond and trust as a couple? And what’s worse. Should I escape from him with a secret that will bind us together for life?

I hadn't seen my mafia husband, Luca Moretti, and our daughter Dora in three whole months. Why? Because his mother, Fiona, said Dora should stay with her "for a while." And Luca? He was "too busy with business," as always. So when Luca finally called and said he was going to pick me up for a family reunion at the villa, I was overjoyed. I thought maybe, just maybe, I'd finally get to hold my little girl again. I spent the whole damn day running around the city, buying her favorite dolls, snacks, a new pink dress, anything I thought would make her smile at me again. But when the car arrived, it wasn't what I imagined. Before I could even say Hi, Dora turned her head, took one look at me… and then wrapped her arms even tighter around Maria, the maid. She buried her face in Maria's neck like I wasn't even there. Like Maria was her mom. I tried to approach her, but Dora straight-up told me she didn't want to ride in the same car as me. And Maria, wearing that fake, polite smile, kept trying to gently talk me into giving Dora "a little more time." I looked over at Luca, hoping he'd step in. Instead, he just looked annoyed, like he couldn't be bothered to lift a finger to help fix things between me and our daughter. Clearly, they didn't want me there. So what was the point of trying to join the ride? I stepped back from the SUV. Then Luca just turned to me and said, "Just wait here. I won't be long." What he'll never understand is… I'm done waiting for him.

My dad collapsed from a sudden heart attack and died. The shock hit my mom like a freight train, and she blacked out cold. By the time I raced home from college, his body had already been reduced to ashes in the crematorium. Grief barely had a chance to sink in before the debt collectors pounded on our door. That was when the ugly truth emerged. My dad had secretly racked up billions in loans, saddling my mom and me. A year later, the relentless harassment from those goons drove my mom to despair. She ended her life, and I was forced to drop out of school, scavenging dumpsters just to scrape by. But fate had a cruel twist in store. I spotted my "dead" dad, alive and thriving, hosting an extravagant birthday bash for his secret son. I stormed in, desperate for answers, only to be hurled out by security. My head cracked against the pavement, and everything went black. When my eyes fluttered open again, I was inexplicably back on that fateful day of my dad's heart attack.

In the late stages of her pregnancy, my wife slipped away into the mountains with her childhood sweetheart, seeking some reckless thrill under the open sky. Fate, however, had other plans. She suffered a massive hemorrhage, and the two were rushed to the hospital. As a doctor, I took one glance at her condition and instructed the nurse to prepare for the cremation. In my previous life, I had risked everything to save her. On that very operating table, she and the child inside her perished together. Her childhood sweetheart, overcome with grief and fury, rallied others to accuse me of seeking personal revenge. Their rage was relentless, and they broke my hands. "A butcher like you, without medical ethics, deserves nothing less than eternal damnation!" they shouted, their words burning like brands on my soul. Yet I distinctly remembered—the surgery had been a success. Her vital signs had stabilized. Clinging to hope, I begged my in-laws to conduct an autopsy, to uncover the truth buried beneath the accusations. Instead, they called the police, who swiftly charged me with performing surgery under the influence of alcohol. Stripped of my rights, I was thrown into prison, where suffering became my only companion. Years later, upon release, I stumbled across a sight that tore what was left of my heart to shreds—my wife, alive and well, behind the wheel of a luxury car, accompanied by her childhood sweetheart and their child, living off the fortune I had worked tirelessly to build. Their betrayal didn't end there. Coldly and methodically, they lured me into a trap, casting me into a cement mixer to erase every trace of my existence. When I next opened my eyes, time had rewound itself. I was back on that fateful day, the one when her hemorrhage began.

Late at night, my husband came home with a young model. "So, you are the washed-up wife that Mr. Dawson keeps at home?" The girl looked at me with a mocking smile and said. Jay Dawson, my husband, reeking of alcohol, glanced between us with interest. He then hugged the young girl and led her into the bedroom. I sat alone on the living room couch, wrapped in a blanket, and listened to their shameless noises all night. I endured it for two years. Our agreement had finally ended this year, and so had my love for Ethan. I walked away. But Ethan chased after me like a madman.

I had waited for him for eight years. I thought I was the love of his life. I thought waiting so long for him to takeover his pack would prove to him my love. But her pictures filled his laptop when he had none of me. I was just a joke to him and his pack. But not anymore. Instead of getting bound to him, it is best to set him free. So l left and he lost his mind trying to find me.

Odessa Neilson believes her life will somehow change after getting engaged to Matteo, until the night of their engagement party. Until she is falsely accused of stealing and cheating from her fiance. And as a final step in getting rid of her, Matteo tells his two closest friends to defile and murder Odessa after he has rejected her as his mate. But, just as Odessa is about to die, fate grants her the chance to be reborn in a time opposite to her own in order to alter the events that led to her untimely death and exact her sweet revenge. And there, she realizes that she has taken on the identity of Claudette Silverstone, the last surviving heiress of the Silver Moon Pack. Being the last surviving heiress, Claudette, will use her role as the most desired Luna Bride of the Silver Moon Pack in order to manifest her resolute mission to avenge herself from those men who have wrong and killed her.

Her sister is marrying her ex. So she brings her best friend as her fake fiancé. What could possibly go wrong? Savannah Hart thought she was over Dean Archer—until her sister, Chloe announces she's marrying him. The same man Savannah never stopped loving. The man who left her heartbroken… and now belongs to her sister. A weeklong wedding in New Hope. One mansion full of guests. And a very bitter maid of honor. To survive it, Savannah brings a date—her charming, clean-cut best friend, Roman Blackwood. The one man who’s always had her back. He owes her a favor, and pretending to be her fiancé? Easy. Until fake kisses start to feel real. Now Savannah’s torn between keeping up the act… or risking everything for the one man she was never supposed to fall for.

"I'm a dominatrix, Harry. I need control! In business, in life, in my home... in sex." She looked at him, who now had his eyes fixed on her. It wasn't that he had become less shy or more comfortable, he simply continued to follow orders, without even understanding why he was doing it. "But the club tired me... the submissive guys at the club tired me." She returned to the sofa, then moved much closer to him, bringing their knees together, and took a firm hold of his chin when, for a second, he dared to look away from her. "So I really wanted to try something new, Harry." Kath took a deep breath and said a few words that would have the power to radically change two stories. "I want YOU to agree to be my new submissive."