Never His Mate

A unique video went viral overnight. In the video, on a snow-capped mountain peak, my boyfriend, Ted Moretti, knelt on one knee, his expression tender. Amidst applause, the ring on her finger sparkled; it was the ring of the Moretti family's future bride. Within hours, the video topped various trending charts. People hailed it as the most romantic proposal of the year. Anya Rossi later posted a message. "I've been looking forward to this wedding for so long, and now it's finally happening! Thank you!" The comment section was instantly flooded with excited exclamations. "A Mafia family heir and an ordinary woman? I love it!" "It's like something out of a novel." "So enviable." I went to my boyfriend to confirm. Before I could even speak, I heard him talking to a close friend in the study. “Do I have any other choice?” Ted said, a hint of annoyance in his voice. “If I don’t marry her, her gambler father will sell her off.” His friend hesitated. “But what about Carly? She’s been with you for so many years. Aren’t you worried she might lose her mind?” Ted chuckled, unconcerned. “So what if she’s angry? Carly and I have been together for six years. She won’t leave. She can’t leave.” At that moment, something deep inside me seemed to freeze completely. A month later On the same day Ted and Carly got married, I married another man. Our wedding processions met downtown. According to custom, we exchanged bouquets between the two passing wedding cars, and our windows rolled down simultaneously. That’s when Ted saw me. I was wearing a white wedding dress. Not behind him. But in another man’s arms. After knowing Ted Moretti for so many years, his consistently perfect composure crumbled for the first time.

I spent five years as Dominic Santoro’s wife in name only. Five years hidden behind closed doors, buried under his sheets, erased from his world. When he finally agreed to take me back to Chicago—to stand beside him, to be seen—I thought I had won. I bought a new dress. Soft. Elegant. Worthy of a Don’s woman. The night before we left, he looked at me through the mirror and said calmly, “Take the makeup off. Change into pants.” I asked why. He adjusted his cufflinks like I was nothing more than background noise. “Juliana Lancaster is back. Tonight is our engagement.” Russian Bratva. Lancaster blood. A marriage alliance. Seeing my silence, he laughed—careless, cruel. “What’s with that look? Didn’t we agree on this when we married? Brotherhood. Loyalty. No love.” Then he turned, eyes sharp and mocking. “Victoria Miller… you didn’t actually fall in love with me, did you?” I stood there, frozen. Because inside the inner pocket of his tailored suit— was my pregnancy report. And the Don of Chicago had no idea the woman he was about to sacrifice was carrying his heir.

After failing to pay back a dangerous politician and business tycoon the money he owes him, a father is forced to sell off his own daughter to him to repay the debt. His young daughter Acania has to suffer the consequences of this unhealthy union to after he is long dead. A mysterious car crash took the lives of all the members of the family.

Arielle Santos 24 years old never imagined that her life would be written for her — even her love story. She was raised in a modest family, a dreamer who painted her hopes in colors only she could see. But one evening, her world collapsed when her parents revealed the truth: to save their family from bankruptcy, she had to marry the son of their business partner — Evan Monteverde, the 28 years old, cold and distant heir of one of the country’s most powerful companies. Evan didn’t believe in love. To him, emotions were distractions — weaknesses that could ruin a man. He had long promised himself never to trust feelings again after being betrayed by someone he once loved. So when his father announced his arranged marriage with a woman he barely knew, he didn’t protest for love’s sake — only to end the endless lectures about “duty” and “family legacy.” Their wedding day was perfect — at least in the eyes of the guests. But behind the veil and the smiles, two strangers stood at the altar, reciting vows they didn’t mean. The words “I do”echoed in the church, but neither of them truly did. After the ceremony, they made a deal — they would live together for one year, play their roles for the sake of appearances, and then quietly separate. No love. No expectations. Just peace. But peace was harder to keep than they thought.

They buried her with lies... They mourned her with guilt... But Alira was never truly gone. When Alira discovers the affair between her sister and her husband,the man she once built her entire world around..confrontation turns to tragedy. Her life is stolen in a single, cruel moment but fate gives her what death denied: a second chance. Reborn in the past, before she ever said yes to his proposal, before she gave him her loyalty, her love... her power, Alira is no longer the devoted wife... She's the architect of vengeance. With every calculated step, she weaves a web of betrayal, seduction, and secrets. This time, she'll wear the dress not of a bride, but of a widow-to-be. And when the final match is lit, no one will be safe from the fire she’s come to unleash. In the ashes of the life they stole, she will build a funeral of flames.

For five years, Vixen loved and waited for her mate’s devotion, only to find he had already given his heart to another—her own stepsister. Betrayed and stripped of everything, she watches the child she raised choose another, and her world crumbles. But Vixen is not done. From heartbreak rises fury, from loss power, and from betrayal emerges a woman determined to make them pay. The man who once rejected her will fall to his knees, desperate to reclaim her. But Vixen has already found someone else: a man who sees her for who she is, and will never let her go. 🔥SNEAK PEEK🔥 Vixen felt his gaze before his hand closed around her wrist, dragging her into the shadowed alcove beyond the ballroom lights. “You keep looking at him.” The accusation burned low and dangerous. Her breath faltered as his body boxed her against the marble wall. “He was part of my life,” she whispered. His jaw tightened. “Was.” Across the hall, Kael laughed with Olaine. Vixen forced a smile. This should be interesting. But that smile was his breaking point. His fingers slid beneath her chin, forcing her gaze back to him — possessive, unyielding, furious in a way that made her pulse stutter. “You wear my name now,” he said roughly. “Your eyes don’t follow another man.” Her lips parted to argue. He kissed her before the words could form. Not gentle. Not patient. The kiss stole her breath, crushed her protest, branded heat into her veins as his hand tightened at her waist, holding her against him like a warning the entire world could read. When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against hers, his voice raw and dark. “Let him watch,” he whispered. “Let him see exactly who you belong to.”

Leonard Cohen is no ordinary werewolf. He is an Alpha and heads the largest and strongest pack Safehaven. He has got it all except for one thing: his Mate. He has to find his mate before the time he is given runs out. What happens when he finds his mate and she is not his kind? She is a bully and has got a boyfriend. Now, he not only has to make her fall in love and accept him, but he also has to protect her from dangers that arise as a result of past grudges.

A premeditated scheme of exploitation stripped me of everything I had. An unforeseen encounter plunged me headlong into a swirling vortex of chaos. Betrayal, contracts, endless entanglements… As the gears of fate clicked into motion, a single sheet of agreement threw me back into the orbit of that person—yet he seemed to have erased every trace of me from his memory… Meanwhile, my ex’s relentless, suffocating pestering and life’s unyielding, brutal trials kept closing in, one after another.

"You were never her, Aria. You were just... there." Jason's words echo in my head as I stand in the back of the church, watching him mourn another woman on her sister's wedding day. Isabelle. The perfect dead girlfriend. The ghost I've been competing with for three years. I thought I could be enough. I thought love could grow where grief once lived. But when I find the evidence, when I see the hotel receipts, the text messages, the photos of Jason with Isabelle's sister Violet, I realize the truth. I was never the love story. I was the intermission. What I don't know yet is that nothing about my marriage was real. Not Jason's cruelty. Not Violet's affair. Not the stranger's rescue. They've all been playing a game, and I'm the prize they're willing to destroy each other for. When the truth comes out, when I discover why Isabelle really died and who's been pulling the strings, I'll have to decide: Do I let them destroy me, or do I burn their whole world down?

ang kasalan kung saan pinagtagpo ang landas ng isa't isa. kasal ma kala'y peke lang, pawang gawa-gawa lang—iba pala ang inaakala. ang kasal na akala'y pagpapanggap lang, humantong sa katotohanang aksyon na akala'y acting lang. ang totoo ay...may nangyayari ibigan sa pagitan nilang dalawa na dahilan ng pagbunyag ng ibat-ibang sekreto.