Mr And Mrs Right

Two years ago, she did everything she could to marry him. Finally, her wish came true.She thought by giving it her all, it would eventually pay off.However, after their marriage, all he had given her was a life worse than death.Because of how merciless and cruel he was, her feelings for him eventually withered away.But just when she had decided to leave, he was the one who refused to let her go…

Shea's gift is no ordinary. She can forsee things. Good or bad. Despite the odds she hopes that this will help her find the answers on who and what she truly believes in. To find her lost love. Her right place... that for once, time did not allow it to happen.

Madelyn Hills didn’t plan to walk out on her crumbling marriage the same day her best friend was getting married to a billionaire groom she'd never met. When Ava begs her to fill in for her for only a few hours, Madelyn reluctantly agrees. After all, it’s just until Ava returns from a last goodbye with her lover. Except… Ava never comes back. Now Madelyn finds herself on a honeymoon with Dominic Blackwell; a powerful billionaire who has secrets of his own and a family desperate to keep up the charade. What was supposed to be a harmless swap quickly spirals into a rollercoaster of luxury, lies, and one very real marriage to a man she was never supposed to meet. Madelyn tries to keep up the act, but that soon becomes hard when strings get attached. Would Madelyn and Dominic be able to save their marriage when their secrets are revealed? Or had this fairytale marriage be doomed from the start?

Gwyneth Glen and Liam Luther's loveless marriage was a union between two families. Despite three years of marriage, Liam knew nothing about his wife except that she was ugly and cowardly.Finally, Liam said, "Sign the papers! We're getting divorced!" However, Gwyneth didn't hesitate and replied, "Fine."As she signed the papers, a triumphant smile crossed her lips...This is the story of Liam's rash decision to divorce that leads to his challenging quest to win his wife back.

They say fated mates are sacred, practically unbreakable. But Aiden wasn’t mine, and I wasn’t his. That didn’t stop me from loving him like he was the last man left in this cursed world. He swore he didn’t need a bond to love me. Said it was pure. Said he’d love me unconditionally. Said he’d choose me—always. But now he’s in our bed, moaning another woman’s name like a prayer. Wearing a forbidden pendant laced in black magic—magic strong enough to block the mate bond so I wouldn’t feel the betrayal. Too late, Aiden. I felt it. Like a dagger slicing straight through my soul. And just as I hit rock bottom, he shows up. A young, enigmatic Alpha—feared, powerful, far too young for me. Alpha Damon. He’s asking questions about illegal mate bond magic. Magic my husband used to cheat without consequences. Magic that ties back to a dark conspiracy. Turns out, my perfect little marriage is just the rotten tip of a magic-smuggling empire. Damon wants my help. Needs me close. Says I’m the only one who knows enough to crack this wide open. But every time he says my name, something in me stirs, something I swore was long dead. I shouldn’t want him. I couldn't him. He’s too young. Too dangerous. Too…everything. But goddess help me—he’s the first man who’s ever looked at me like I wasn’t something broken. Like I wasn’t disposable. Like I was worth fighting for.

“You’re a liar. And a coward. And you broke me twice.” I laughed—hollow, bitter. Then bent to pick up the torn pieces of the file. I couldn’t believe I’d fallen for the same man twice in one lifetime. If this was a dream, it was a cruel one. When I walked past him, I didn’t look back. “I know I hurt you,” he said behind me, his voice low and raw. “But I never stopped loving you… not even for a single day.” --- They were never supposed to end up together...again, but fate had other plans. Alina has always been the unwanted twin—the quiet, overlooked sister living in the shadow of her perfect twin. So when her father faces financial ruin, he makes a chilling decision: marry one of his daughters off to save the family name. The groom? A powerful, mysterious heir hidden from the public eye. The chosen bride? Alina’s stunning sister. But at the last moment, her father switches them. Now, Alina finds herself married to a man she doesn’t know—yet strangely feels drawn to. A man who might just remember her from a forgotten moment in their past. As sparks begin to fly, she finds herself falling in love with a familiar stranger again. But dark secrets begin to unfold—and a family desperate to reclaim their “true” daughter fights dirty. She was never supposed to be the bride. But she just might be the woman he’s waited for all along.

Love For The Wicked Book Three. In my eyes, the world is a huge sandbox created for the big boys. Girls, money, business… and I always strive to come out on top until my father gave me an ultimatum. I needed to find a wife, or I’d lose my rights to the family business. I found the perfect woman for the scheme I devised, of course. She was beautiful, feisty, the picture-perfect wife to make my father believe I was done playing games. In return, she needed a favor, the kind that takes nine months to deliver. The rules were laid out meticulously, from the no touching to fake falling in love. After a year, we would part ways amicably with no hassle, no demands, and no regrets; after all, it was all just a game. As my plan took its course, it dawned on me that playing house was a game I never should have played. She started to grow on me, from that sexy little pout to the late nightcap, the endless dirty banter, and even the fights we had. I realize I enjoyed having her around. Trouble is, how will I make her believe I am not playing games anymore? That I don’t want her to be just my contract wife, that I don’t want twelve months with her but more?

At twenty-eight, I held the dubious honor of being the last unmarried socialite on New York's Upper East Side. Everyone around me was growing increasingly anxious about my single status. In my previous life, my mother arranged a matchmaking cocktail party, where I was told to choose a husband from ten handpicked elite bachelors. I bribed the event planner to place Mark West's profile at the very top—and as I had hoped, I chose him. After we married, Mark treated me with what seemed like tender affection. He even bought me an oceanfront villa in the Hamptons, making me believe I had finally found true love. But that illusion shattered the day I was nine months pregnant, just hours away from giving birth. Mark drove a scalpel straight into my abdomen—then, right in front of me, hurled our newborn onto the floor. "If you hadn't forced me into this marriage with your family's power, Sofia wouldn't have been heartbroken enough to go drinking and get drugged and assaulted. This… this is what you owe her!" He tossed the scalpel aside, then calmly let his private doctor pin down my blood-soaked body. I fought through excruciating pain for six agonizing hours, until I finally bled to death. Afterward, Mark dumped my corpse into the Hudson River. But for Sofia, he hosted a grand funeral—funded with my money, under my name—and paraded himself to the world as a grieving, devoted widower. Given a second chance at life, I refused to step foot in that cursed matchmaking event. Instead, I went straight to my mother with a demand: marry me to Robert Black—the most ruthless, cold-blooded titan of Wall Street, whose scarred face was feared by all. In the end, stripped of my financial backing, Mark's hedge fund collapsed. He became a disgraced fraudster, spat on by everyone on Wall Street.

When Yelton Group tanked, their CEO and his wife showed up at our door, begging for a marriage alliance. My dad, thinking I was still head-over-heels for Rosie after ten freaking years, threw a million into their sinking ship and signed me up to marry Rosie. Wedding night? She blindfolded me and kept whispering how bad she wanted it. A month later, I tested positive for an STD. Then I caught her bragging to her friends. "Quinn got wrecked by, like, a dozen girls," she laughed. "Wanna guess who gave him the infection?" Her friends were cracking up. "I scouted all the grossest red-light spots," one said. "Each one's got a different flavor." "Just wait," another giggled. "When the symptoms hit hard, we'll know who wins." Rosie added, "Prize money's ready. Soon as we figure it out, she gets paid." That's when it hit me. It wasn't Rosie in bed that night—it was a lineup of strangers she set up. I lost it. Went straight to her, demanded answers. She didn't even flinch. "Mad? Please. If you hadn't dangled that million to force me into this marriage—or scared Caleb off—do you think I'd waste my time on you? "Once Caleb forgives me, you're done." I asked for a divorce. She locked me in the basement. "Chill," she said. "We're still placing bets on who gave you the STD." Six months later, I died down there. Just rotted away. Then I woke up—right back on the day her parents came begging for that deal. Only this time, on the wedding day? She was the one crying.

How rich can a person be? My wife is incredibly rich. People call her "The Queen of Cloudridge" because nearly half the city's properties are owned by her. We've been married for five years, and every time she goes out to meet her first love, she transfers a property to my name. By the time I have 99 homes in my name, she suddenly notices that something has changed. I no longer cry, beg, or ask her to stay. I simply choose the finest mansion in all of Cloudridge, bring the property deed with me, and wait for her to sign it. She signs the papers, and for the first time, she softens. "When I get back, let's go watch the fireworks together." I quietly tuck the agreement away and hum in response. But I never tell her what she's really signed this time. It's not a property deed. It's our divorce agreement.