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I was reborn the year the Blood Moon War began. The first thing I did? I sacrificed my child. The child of my blood-bonded mate, Lord Lucius of the Covenant. In my last life, he chose to protect his childhood sweetheart, Lilith, when she slept with a werewolf. He stole my pureblood heir and replaced it with her half-breed mongrel. They branded me a traitor. In a sun-scorched dungeon, they burned my scarred body to ash with holy light. And my own son, his mind poisoned by Lilith, stood on my ashes and cursed me to Hell for all eternity. When I opened my eyes again, the blood ritual for my heir was already three months along. I didn't hesitate. I went straight to a witch, and with a potion brewed from my own heart's blood, I ended it. Then, I put on something else: an expensive amulet of Blood Illusion. It faked the energy of a pureblood fetus. It masked my true state, cloaking me in the sweet, alluring scent of a pregnant vampire. It even created a perfect illusion of a growing belly. Lucius needed an heir to cover for Lilith’s crime. Fine. I’d play along. This time, I had no weaknesses.

Before I turned eighteen, I was the adored principessa of the Moretti family. That all changed on my eighteenth birthday, when my father brought home an orphan girl named Carina. "She needs a home," my father said. "You will look after her, like a sister." From that moment on, nothing was the same. My brother, who once doted on me, became cold and distant. And my fiancé... his love for me seemed to halve overnight. The family praised Carina for being gentle and obedient, calling her a far better daughter than me, their own flesh and blood. After being cast aside for Carina one too many times, I finally broke and grabbed my father's sleeve. "Does blood mean nothing at all?" My father's fury ignited. He sheltered a tear-stricken Carina behind him, and in front of every member of the family, he struck me across the face. "You selfish waste. I wish I'd never had you." "You bring shame to this family," my brother Marco's voice was as cold as a blade. "Get out." And my fiancé, Vincent, looked at me with disappointment,"If only it had been Carina I was engaged to from the start." They thought I would grovel at their feet, like I always did. But I said nothing, just walked to the family safe, removed the official documents, and drew a single line through my name. I took the engagement ring from my finger and placed it on the table. I gave Carina everything they felt I didn't deserve. After all, I only had a few days left to live. But they had no idea then that amid the ruins of the Moretti family, they would one day kneel in the rain and plead for my return.

The day my father slid that contract across the table, I should have walked away. I didn't. Instead, I signed my name next to his: Damien Blackwood. The most feared man in the city. Cold. Ruthless. The kind of man who buys companies for sport and destroys lives before breakfast. I told myself it was survival. That I was signing to save my mother and protect what was left of my family. But Damien Blackwood didn't choose me by accident. He chose me because he knew exactly who I was. Because he had been watching me for three years. Because the secret buried between our families goes deeper and darker than anything I was prepared to find. He says this is a partnership. He says we both want the same thing, to burn our fathers' empires to the ground. He says this is strictly business. But the man who shows up at my mother's hospital without being asked, the man who tucks my hair back in a dark car park and calls at midnight just to hear my voice, the man who kept a seven year old photograph and a handwritten note that says she is the one. That man isn't doing business. And neither am I. We started as enemies. We signed a contract. We were supposed to use each other and walk away. But somewhere between the revenge and the secrets, we forgot to stay on opposite sides. It was never just business. It was never going to be.

To help Clara recover from a painful heartbreak with her college sweetheart, Kyle, and to also repay a debt, Randy White signs a five-year marriage contract with Clara's father. During the five year marriage, Randy falls in love with Clara, but she doesn't see him as anything more than a gold digger and Kyle's substitute. At the end of the contract, Randy decides to divorce Clara and reclaim his position as a world renowned Physicist.

Distressed by the evidence of her husband’s unfaithfulness, Emily found herself fallen prey to her best friend Maya’s scheme. Between her husband Louis’ distrust and the intensifying strife within her family, Emily found help from Damian, the heir to a multinational conglomerate. This is a story of two people who are skeptical about love but ultimately discover genuine affection for one another.

My younger brother, Owen Rivera, and I are playing in Dad's refrigerated truck. Owen wants to grab my ice cream from me, but I refuse to let him have his way. He shoves me forcefully, causing me to lose my balance and fall to the floor, knocking me out on the spot. When I finally wake up and locate him in the freezer, I find out that he's gotten reduced to a frozen statue. The security footage shows that Owen has been screaming the words "Mommy, help me!" hysterically for three hours before his death. After Mom is done watching the footage, she breaks down on the spot. Then, she yanks me by my hair before slamming me against the wall. "What were you doing? You were at the entrance, dammit! Why didn't you open the door for Owen?" With reddened eyes, Dad throws me into the freezer. "Owen was cold and frightened in the freezer! You should have a taste of the same thing too!" The thick and heavy door is slammed in my face. Darkness and a bone-chilling coldness devour me instantly. I curl into a small ball in the corner Owen has just died in. My teeth are starting to chatter, and my consciousness is starting to slip away. I'm sorry, Mom and Dad. I don't feel cold. I'm not cold at all. I will never eat ice cream ever again in my next lifetime.

How could I be married for almost three years and knew nothing about it?  I had wanted to confront him and call him an asshole for marrying someone who didn't even know he existed. But here I was, under him; engulfed by his lips and moaning uncontrollably. But could you blame me? He was hot as hell and knew way too much about pleasuring a woman. “What do you want?” I heard him ask with a deep baritone voice. It was so sexy my mind went blank for a second… “Do it. Fuck me! Please… I need you to suck my tits!” I didn't care about my dignity anymore, I just needed him so badly. “Very well” he said and that was it.  It was him. The one my body has been waiting for… my husband. *** Under a three year marriage contract, Aurelia Thompson was married without her knowledge to Alfred Vicker, a heartless business tycoon and sexy hunk. After a mix up that led to the couple having sex and Alfred disvirgining her, their lives were turned upside down in the mix of lust and sinful intoxicating romance. Their differences were great and conflict arising from every corner but despite that, their bodies still called out for each other. How long will they be able to resist it? Join the ride of this dark romance where the line between love, lust and obsession are non-existent, only two people with palpable sexual tension mixed with hate… or was it love?

Isabella Hart has always believed that love is a luxury she can’t afford especially with her mother’s life on the line. Struggling to make ends meet, she never imagined that a single contract could change everything. Alexander Voss, a wealthy and cold hearted billionaire, has one rule: marry by a certain deadline or lose his inheritance. Business comes first, and love is the last thing on his mind. When fate forces Isabella into a marriage contract with Alexander, their worlds collide in ways neither of them expected. What starts as a cold, calculated arrangement slowly stirs emotions they can’t ignore. Can a contract turn into real love, or will their differences tear them apart before it even begins?

Everyone in the underworld knew Rosalie Thorne, the "Thorn Principessa" of the North. Wild, rebellious, notorious. Street racing, high-stakes gambling, guns, and drinking, she had mastered them all. The rose-and-thorn tattoo on the nape of her neck drove countless men wild. But what they didn't know was that for Rocco, the new mob boss of the South, a single sentence, "I prefer a more obedient woman," was all it took. At his word, I had the tattoo lasered off and swapped my leathers for long, conservative dresses. I am Rosalie. For five years, I hid my identity and played the porcelain doll Rocco wanted. Until the night he eliminated all his rivals and was crowned the new Don of the South. That was when he let his men bow to another woman, hailing her as their "Donna." I watched Rocco. The same hands that had just executed a traitor were now gently placing a pair of red high heels on the feet of his adoptive sister, Vivian. "Rosalie, she has a temper. She'll make a scene if she doesn't get the title." "You're the good one, the obedient one. Just let her have this." That day, I walked straight out into the rain and never looked back. I was never truly obedient. I just made myself smaller for him. My family had already chosen a husband for me. They had been waiting five years, just for me to say yes.

I’d been in love with Cassian Cross—my brother’s best friend, the one and only mafia boss in the NYC—for as long as I could remember. On the night of my twentieth birthday, my brother promised me a surprise. I didn’t expect that surprise to be a very drunk, very kissable Cassian. One reckless night. One baby boy. Cassian agreed to marry me after giving birth. But the day I gave birth to Leo, Cassian said nothing. He just packed up and vanished to France for nearly five years. Then he returned with Alessia. His first love. And when she saw Leo and me, she ran away and disappeared. After that, Cassian never left my side. Like he was trying to be the man I needed all along, that we were finally going to have our chance. But fairytales are lies wrapped in pretty paper. On Leo’s sixth birthday, we were driving to dinner. The brakes failed. The car spun onto the highway, flames licking at the engine. Cassian got out. And then he locked the door. “If it weren’t for you, Alessia would still be by my side. Now? It’s your turn to suffer.” It wasn’t until that moment I understood—Cassian had never loved me. When I opened my eyes again, I was back at my twenties birthday. Cassian was in my bed, exactly where I’d left him in the past. This time, I didn’t hesitate. I ran. And on my way out, I made the call I should’ve made the first time. To Alessia.