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My wife Susan had the power to save lives, but when our son was rushed to the ICU and needed her help, she refused no matter how much I begged. While I was crying myself hoarse when I received news that our son was dead, I heard her purring over the phone, "Mark? Don't worry, your puppy's way more important. Of course I'll save it." There was a limit to her power that she could only use it once a month, but she nonchalantly used it for Mark's pet dog! Shaking with rage, I seized her by the collar and bellowed, "We're talking about a human life here, and your son at that! But an animal is worth more than that?!" Susan shook me off, smirking in disdain. "Mark has always been by himself—is there a problem that I took his side? And what could happen to our son when he has his daddy? Stop giving me that attitude!" Just two hours later, Mark posted on social media a photo of him with Susan kissing his pet dog together, with the smug caption: [Who had bet that a son matters more than a dog? Know when you're beaten. Now pay up!] So he had a bet with someone that Susan would choose his dog! Worst of all, Susan lovingly replied: [If Mark wants to win, I'll always be there for him.] Even as I felt heartrending pain, I was laughing coldly as I sent my own reply. [If you all love to bet so much, why not bet when you're gonna drop dead?]

I turn down a dream research program at Hefford University just so I can stay and help my debt-ridden boyfriend run a burger stand. This time, he says he's serious. I give him all the money I've saved up over the years, hoping we can build a better future together. A few hours later, I discover he's forgotten two hundred dollars in the drawer. I grab the money and run out, hoping to catch him. What I catch is a scene straight out of a corny movie. The loan sharks who used to beat and threaten him are now bowing and nodding deferentially. "Sir, I guess we don't need to show up at your house anymore, right?" Kurt Saunders rubs his temples and replies, "Yup. Anna gave up her entire future for me. She even turned down an opportunity to study at Hefford just to help me pay off my debts." Before he even finishes, his childhood friend lets out a giggle. "Kurt, that's still not enough. You'll only know if she really doesn't mind being poor if she sticks around through a year of flipping burgers without any complaints." Kurt looks at her sly expression and lets out a helpless laugh. "Alright, we'll do it your way. One more year of pretending. Anna would never leave me anyway." I stand there, listening to the sound of my own heart shatter. Kurt, you think I'm giving up my future for you, but it's still mine, and I can take it back.

Elena Vance made a fifty-dollar mistake that cost her her freedom. Believing her one-night stand was a high-end escort, she left cash and a mocking note on his pillow, only to walk into a boardroom hours later and realize the man was Adrian Blackwood, the ruthless "Ice King" CEO. Adrian didn't just hold her career in his hands; he held a cocktail napkin marriage license signed in a tequila haze and her father’s $200,000 gambling debt. "You belong to me for six months," he declared, trapping her in a fake marriage to secure a corporate merger. Elena entered the "gilded cage" of Adrian's penthouse expecting a cold, transactional war of wills governed by strict "no-touch" clauses. She remained loyal only to save her father, unaware that he would eventually betray her to their enemies. But the boardroom battles quickly turned lethal. Victor Kane, Adrian’s bitter rival from MIT, obsessed with erasing the Blackwood legacy, sold the company's debt to the Russian Bratva. Suddenly, the fake spouses were forced into a terrifying reality: becoming FBI informants. The "Ice King" melted into a desperate protector, and the graphic designer sharpened into a survivor. Their bond shifted from a business deal to a sacrificial love, forged in the fires of betrayal. But when a mission to plant a bug at a mob wedding ends in a massacre, they realize the FBI is compromised. Stripped of his billions and presumed dead, Adrian stands in the ashes of his empire alongside Elena. A secret brother watches from the shadows, and the Russian mob is closing in. "We have nothing left," Elena whispered, staring into the dark. Adrian gripped her hand, his eyes burning with a new, dangerous resolve. "We have each other. And now, we run."

Tiana Greene arrives on Lycan Isle with nothing but a suitcase, a scarred past, and a desperate need for work. When she is hired as a maid in the sprawling cliff-side mansion of Ross Lycan – the island’s reclusive billionaire – she expects long hours, strict rules, and silence. What she does not expect is the man himself: cold as the steel in his voice, brutally private, and carrying a shadow in his gaze that keeps everyone at arm’s length. Rumours whisper through the island of former staff fleeing in fear, of Ross’s cruelty, and of the mysteriously vanished brother whose memory haunts the mansion halls. Tiana tries to keep her distance, but every forbidden glance and accidental touch tightens the invisible thread pulling them together. When a near-fatal accident on the cliffs pushes Ross into her life more violently than either of them intended, the dynamic shifts. Ross grows protective yet distant, drawn to Tiana in ways he cannot accept – while she fights her own confusion over the man beneath the frost. As the annual island festival approaches, tensions rise. Tiana becomes a target for the island’s elite women, whose humiliation of her sparks a dangerous, possessive reaction in Ross. Social pressure thickens, rumours spread, and the boundaries of employer and servant begin to blur into something darker, deeper, and irresistibly intimate. But everything changes the night Tiana slips into a forbidden study and uncovers the truth about Ross’s past – a past woven with loss, guilt, and secrets buried beneath the island’s stormy surface. Now she must decide. Can she love a man built from shadows? And can Ross love someone brave enough to walk into the darkness he’s spent years trying to hide?

My husband's parents were stung by an unidentified venomous queen hornet and rushed to the hospital. As soon as I heard the news, I hurried to the entomology research institute to seek help from my husband, who was the director, hoping he could assist the doctors with the diagnosis. Instead, he called for security to block me at the entrance. "I don't handle work matters after hours," he said coldly. "Penny's mother is sick, and I need to go take care of her." I tried to show him the critical condition notice from the hospital, but he tore it up in one swift motion. "People die every day. So what if your dad and mom died?" After my in-laws passed away, I filed a lawsuit against Penny Madison, who had deliberately disturbed the beehive that led to the attack. My husband, who had disappeared for several days, suddenly showed up as an expert witness in court. He fabricated a false professional opinion to exonerate Penny. When I decided to leave the country, he lost his temper. "What do your parents' short lives have to do with me? Is it so hard to understand that after a long day at work, I just want to rest? And now you want to drag Penny into this mess. Just because your own family is broken, you want to ruin someone else's? How can you be so vicious? You deserve to lose your parents!" Watching his brazen attempts to twist the truth, I suddenly realized something. He still didn't know that he had become an orphan.

"Good afternoon, ma'am. You just walked out of Boston City Hall looking absolutely radiant. Any special occasion to celebrate?" "I'm getting divorced." "I'm sorry to hear that. Would you mind telling me what happened?" "He's been bedding his late right-hand man's sister. In my art studio, on my yacht, across my private study desk, and even on the grand piano in our living room. He thought I didn't know." "I can't imagine how much this hurts. I'm so sorry for what you're going through. Where are you heading now?" "The hospital. Prenatal checkup." ... The interview went viral within hours for her calm, unflinching recounting of the betrayal and the shocking contrast between her glamorous mafia wife identity and her devastating situation. It didn't take long for netizens to dig out my identity, and the entire world now knows the woman in that video is me. Elena, Donna of the Moretti family. Three years ago, Vincenzo Moretti, the undisputed Don who ruled Boston's underworld with an iron fist, threw me a wedding that made headlines across the nation. Back then, everyone envied me, calling me the luckiest woman alive. But now? That interview had been online for nearly two days, and Vincenzo was still lost in his little love nest. By the time Vincenzo finally bothered to watch the video his men had forwarded to him, I was already in New Zealand. The whole world knew I was leaving Vincenzo Moretti. He was the last person on earth to find out.

On the day I'm supposed to get promoted as the deputy director, I pick up a 40-pound barbell before breaking my right arm with it. Because of the injury, I missed the only title-evaluating surgery available in five years. Everyone feels sorry for me, seeing as I've practically ruined my own future with my own hands. But I, on the other hand, am so excited about it that I've downed two bottles of vintage wine in one go. Because in my past life, I spent ten hours in surgery and pulled the patient back from the brink of death. But my wife, Megan Reese, immediately accused me of abusing my power as a doctor just to resolve a personal vendetta by killing her first love, Pierre Hopkins, on purpose. She bribed the nurses who were in the same surgery as me. They were adamant that I used the wrong medication purposefully, which led to the patient dying from a rupture. Not only was my career destroyed, but I also became a public enemy, hated by everyone. My mom tried to seek justice on my behalf, only to get cyberbullied by the Internet users, who knew nothing about the truth, to the point that she broke down. In the end, she accidentally fell into the river and drowned. When I received the tragic news, I chose to end my life by jumping off the hospital's rooftop. After I died, Megan spent my assets however she wanted. She also lived happily ever after with Pierre, who apparently "came back to life". When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the day I'm supposed to perform a surgery on Pierre.

"All three of us are going to fuck you tonight, omega. Over and over until you're dripping with our cum and sobbing our names. And you're going to take every inch like the good little wife you are." Emerald Ukilah—the unwanted daughter, the pack outcast, the girl no one would miss—is now the wife of the three most dangerous Alphas alive. The Ravencourt triplets don't just want her body. They want her complete surrender. Her screams. Her tears. Every shuddering orgasm they can force from her trembling body. Magnus breaks her with brutal dominance, fucking her until she can't remember her own name. Daemon edges her for hours, teaching her that pleasure is a weapon and he's a master. Cassian pins her down and makes her keep her eyes open while he destroys her—but sometimes, in those brown eyes, she sees something that looks like worship. She was supposed to be a sacrifice. A lamb to the slaughter. But these wolves don't want to kill her. They want to keep her. Own her. Ruin her so completely that she'll never want another touch. ***** Why settle for one when you can have them all? Why Choose is a collection of steamy short stories where one woman never has to make the impossible choice. Four men? Three best friends? Two rivals who would burn the world just to share her? Each story explores a different fantasy, a different heat level, and the same answer every time—she doesn’t choose.Because when it comes to passion, love, and lust… why choose?

Seven years I spent with Jason Shaw, but I never got a ring. Rather, all I received was an invitation to another person's wedding. That day, as a wedding planner, I was at the rehearsal, making last-minute adjustments. Looking up, I saw the man whom I waited every day to reply to my messages, walking down the aisle, arm in arm with another bride. "Her boyfriend had something urgent come up, so I'm filling in for him," he said, standing straight, his tone light, a small smile on his lips. But his eyes couldn't hide the hurt, like a child who lost his favorite toy. As if that wasn't enough, he told me to hand over my wedding plan. He patted me on the shoulder, saying sincerely, "There's no rush for us. We've got plenty of time. I promise I'll give you an even better wedding. Just help me out this time. It's not like I'm not going to marry you." He didn't know that I had revised the wedding plan hundreds of times, even counted and recounted the bouquets seven times. To me, it wasn't mere work—it was a dream I held for five long years. I didn't argue anymore, just quietly stepped aside. Later, I lay alone in a hospital bed, listening to the rain tapping against the window from outside. I counted each drop as the hours slipped through my fingers. Perhaps those who worked so hard to create happiness for others had lost the right to their own happiness.

Wives are to be claimed, whores are for fucking. But me? I’m to be PLEASURED. ~~~ Chelsea Stone signed the contract expecting a cold and dead marriage. Instead she found herself collared by Dominic Hartwell – a man whose rules were written in silk restraints, leather belts, and the low growl of full command. He bound her wrists above her head and taught her that silence was no longer armor; it was foreplay. He spread her wide open on silk sheets and edged her for hours with fingers, tongue, and the thick head of his veiny cock until she was dripping, shaking, and sobbing “Please, big daddy… I’ll be good.” Only then did he drive into her deep and relentless, one hand tight around her throat, the other spanking her ass while he fucked her into shattering, screaming release. Chelsea was never meant to stay broken though, because in the darkness between punishments and praise, she began to crave more than surrender. She wanted to test him, to push and whisper filthy things against his ear while she rode his thigh, soaked and trembling: “I want to be your little cunt who shows big daddy who’s really boss.” Dominic’s eyes darkened with dangerous promise every time she dared. The more he punished her with a be*t across her, cock down her throat until tears ran down her cheeks, hands pinning her down while he claimed every inch of her. The more she burned to flip their power while he owned her body. Yet as old enemies sharpened their knives and forbidden pasts, pain and pleasure blurred until Chelsea no longer knew where submission ended and rebellion began. Would she kneel forever… OR would the quiet wife finally make her ruthless husband beg?