Let's Go In Korean

In the fifth year of my mating to Alpha Tom, his childhood sweetheart, Becky Bell, was splashed across every tabloid in the territory. Pregnant. Unmated. And accused of shattering another couple’s bond. The rumors hit like a rogue’s ambush. But it was his reaction that truly gutted me. “Becky’s father once saved me, she has no pack, no family left. Everything she’s accomplished… she clawed her way to it. Alone.” My fingers clenched tighter around the pregnancy test tucked away in my purse. “And the only way to protect her now,” he continued, not even looking me in the eye, “is for me to marry her. To claim the pup as mine.” “And what about me?” I asked, barely more than a whisper. My voice cracked. The Sunfire Pack and the Golden Fang Pack—my pack—had been allies for over a century. “How do I explain this sudScott rejection to my parents? To my pack? To the elders? They know we're mate bond.” Alpha Tom inhaled sharply. “Just tell them it was always a business arrangement. That there was no real love between us.” My wolf bared her teeth at that. He had the audacity to look away. “Once the media frenzy dies down, I’ll come for you. I’ll bring you back to Sunfire Pack and give you the grand wedding you deserve.” I stared at him. This Alpha—was seriously telling me he was going to marry another she-wolf, claim her pup, let me get torn apart by pack gossip and speculation, and then what? he's offering me his marriage like it’s some kind of charity? My fingers twitched, aching to throw the pregnancy test at him. But I didn’t. I laughed. For three years, I had been the one he discarded—over and over. And now, even my marriage was to be sacrificed for her sake. It hit me then, sharp and cold: It's time for me to leave him

I had poured my heart into planning the perfect wedding—for my female client. Then I turned a corner and saw her kissing my boyfriend at the stairwell. He chuckled softly. "No wonder you're my wife. You're stunning." She let out a soft laugh. "Your little secret girlfriend still does not know you're marrying me. She actually wished me happiness—can you believe it? So… when are you planning to tell her?" He tilted her chin and said, "Didn't we agree? Once we're married, we each live our own lives. Teresa is the love of my life. I hope you'll keep your mouth shut." She gave a snort of laughter and yanked playfully on his tie. "Relax, babe. As long as you keep treating me right, I won't stir up trouble." I felt like I had plunged into an ice bath. Face pale, hands trembling, I picked up my phone and texted my mentor: [I'm ready to take the transfer to Luminous City.] The reply came not long after: [Three days from now. We'll go together.]

One year ago, my husband Killian came back home accusing me of poisoning him, with his childhood sweetheart in his arms. It was terrifying. Because what started off allegedly, became my cold reality with that awful text. “Have you gone through with it, Tamara? Our flight is at noon,” This made Killian even more hostile, he treated me with so much contempt, he broke my heart into shreds in his quest for vengeance. Fed up, I asked for a divorce but to Killian it was one big joke. He has every means to keep me in this marriage and I know it. But screw it, and screw him! I had plans, work, make money and get myself out unscathed. But then fate decided to throw me another curved ball… I got pregnant, and Killian was the only possible father. **** Damon Blackwood is in dire need of an heir. A womb to carry his baby to term in exchange for a million dollars. One thrilling encounter and he knew he had found the one. Hazel Simpson, insanely mouthwatering, and ridiculously beautiful, smart mouth and a gorgeous body. But she lacks one thing. Money. Out of sheer desperation, Hazel responds to an ad through a co-worker, a huge sum for a secret surrogate mom. But who says rules are meant to be obeyed? Damon wants more, her womb, her body and her soul. All of her. What happens when Hazel discovers it was all a trap from the onset. **** “Have you forgotten that I'm just a divorcee, a broken woman incapable of love, Seb?” I ask him breathlessly, staring into his eyes. “I'm going to stitch your heart, Melanie. I'm going to make you want me,” Sebastian takes my ear into his mouth and nibbles it gently, sending shivers down my spine.

Lady Sarah Emiline Lucia needs to hide her identity for fear that mobs will kill her and her family after her uncle—Napoleon Bonaparte—is exiled to Melba. She is sent to Hampshire, England to stay with friends of her father. To stay safe, she must play the role of her maid, while her maid assumes Lady Sarah’s identity. Complications arise when she meets the very handsome man, and she suddenly wants him to look at her as a real woman, not a servant. Protecting her life, however, is more important than confessing the truthGabriel Lawrence’s pirate ship is almost captured and this time it was too close. He and his crew need to hide for a few months in hopes that Napoleon’s men who seek revenge, will soon forget about him. During his stay at his aunt and uncle’s in Hampshire, he meets the niece of his enemy. Because she doesn’t know who Gabe is, he will become close to her to see if she knows any more of her uncle’s secrets. But the beauty of her companion, Miss Emmie, captures his attention, and her quirky personality keeps him wanting more. But her over-zealous nature for adventure places both of them in danger and he’s forced to play the honorable rogue.How can he protect them both when an unknown spy is always one step ahead…and wants Gabe dead?

Just as the Silverwolf Pack was about to fall into ruin, Blaise Larkin approached me and asked me to be his mate. I'd had a crush on Blaise for as long as I could remember. Now that my wildest dreams were about to come true, I was happy to form a mate bond with him. As I was the sole daughter of the Eastern Pack's Alpha, I was able to provide him with a mountain of resources by becoming Blaise's mate. One month after our bonding ceremony, I was expecting a pup. I was ecstatic, but before I could share the news with Blaise, I overheard something soul-shattering. "I wonder who fathered the pup of our pregnant Luna." "She probably got involved with some filthy Rogue. There's no way Alpha Blaise will let her give birth to that mutt, right?" If it weren't for those werewolves, I wouldn't know that Blaise was pretending we never mated. When I demanded answers in a deranged manner, he threw me into the underground prison and forced me to atone for the death of his first love. "If you didn't insist on becoming my mate, Susie wouldn't have left the pack—she also wouldn't have gotten slaughtered by Rogues!" Eight months later, I lost my pup in the cell I was imprisoned in and died, soaking in my own blood. When I opened my eyes once again, I found myself back on the day Blaise asked me to be his mate.

My husband sends me a photo of our obedient daughter holding a plate of food. He writes, "Thanks to my patient guidance, our sweetheart has finally made her first dish! We're waiting for you to come home and taste it!" The exhaustion I feel from work is swept away when I see that. No one expects that I'll reach home half an hour later and kill him.

The story follows a young man whose life was turned upside down when his father makes a stupid, irrational mistake and loses all of his money. The perfect life is gone and he has to face failures, losses, betrayals, but also love and true friendship.

"If you won't satisfy me, then don't try to stop me from getting pleasure elsewhere," he said icily, turning to leave. "Will you stop seeing other women if I do it?" She asked sheepishly, facepalming in shyness. She couldn't believe she was considering it. "That will depend on how good your performance is," the ice melted from his eyes and all around him. When Abigail finds herself in an arranged marriage to save her father and revenge on her stepmother and sisters, she was never prepared to fall in love with a jerk like President Tony - the multi-time billionaire CEO of the Wrights Empire, and a playboy, who thought that no woman had the five or maybe six qualities he wanted in an ideal wife. Whereas, Abigail was determined to bring him graciously on his knees, till the only woman he'd ever want would be her, and her alone.

On the day Moon Spencer received the Medal of Honor, she made a public declaration of love on live television to her accompanying military medic, Xavier Quinn. “If it weren’t for Xavier, I’d have died in that storm at sea. He is the most important person in my life.” At the same time, her husband, Nathan Johnson, was lying on his deathbed at home. For years, he had taken care of Moon’s parents and raised their child alone. The strain destroyed his health, and he had little time left. He never expected that after twenty years of sacrifice, he would not even hear a word of thanks from her. What truly broke him was their daughter’s comment. “Dad, don’t you think Dr. Quinn and Mom are perfect together? You should leave sooner and make room for him.” Nathan collapsed in fury and regret. He died that night. When he opened his eyes again, he was back to the night before Moon left for her coastal deployment. This time, he refused to stay behind as the forgotten man who kept everything running. In this life, he would pursue his own dream.

In the VIP lounge of an underground casino, Maeve, the Falcone family's princess, had been plied with too much hard liquor. Fueled by alcohol, someone goaded her into revealing the most shameless thing she'd ever done to win over the Don. She swirled her glass, pointed at me dealing cards behind the table, and threw her head back with a laugh. "Seven years ago, when Declan was in a coma after a shootout, I took his private phone. And I deleted the distress message that bitch sent him. Every last trace of it. Then I replied in his name: You're a burden. Go die." "You'll never guess what happened next. That idiot stood outside the safe house all night in a downpour, like a stray dog. I almost died laughing…" The room erupted in crude laughter. Only the man enthroned at the head of the table remained silent. The crystal whiskey glass in his hand shattered with a sharp crack. Blood mixed with the amber liquor, trickling over the veins on the back of his hand before dripping onto the carpet. His murderous, bloodshot eyes were locked on me. I calmly dealt the last hole card in front of him and offered a clean, white silk handkerchief. "Don Declan, you should wipe your hand. Blood on the felt is bad luck." After all, some stains never wash out.