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Dr. Jasper Hawthorne brings his colleagues on another expedition, that of his old mentor. Dragging into the barren field of Antarctica they stumble upon something unexpected. Bringing along his great niece Bridgette will it be a happy coincidence, or does fate have something up its sleeve?

Hayden Baxter's sidepiece comes up to me and throws yet another tantrum. "I love Hayden too much. Can't you let me have him?" Hayden sits quietly on one side but texts me, "Just say yes and humor her for a bit." I do as I am told, then wordlessly begin to pack up my stuff so I can move out of the home I share with Hayden. On my way out, I hear his friends jesting, "Elena is surprisingly obedient. Does this mean she'll abort her baby if you ask her to, Hayden?" Hayden raises a brow, looking nonchalant. "Want to place a bet on it? "I bet she'd whine and throw a fit at the hospital entrance in a week, only to give in and do as she's told." I don't argue. Instead, I quietly tap on my conversation with someone else. "Will you marry me?" "Yes."

When he pulled her into his arms, an intense desire to have this woman burned in him. He loved how her feminine body fit just right in his arms. Her sweet scent drove down his spine and awoke this unusual tingling sensation in him. He knew he needed to control his yearning for her, but couldn't deny himself the privilege to have her in his arms while it lasted. He meant it when he said he needed this woman: he needed more from this woman who had undeniably taken his senses into her heart, and he craved to enjoy this moment: at least, for a while. His grip on her waist tightened as he whispered soothingly into her ear. “I suddenly feel sick. Babysit me tonight.” ****************** Ava's last wish would be: to get married to someone who is involved in illegal businesses, but unfortunately, her last wish became her reality. Things turned out so unexplainable, and she ended up getting married to a stranger: a billionaire mafia lord: Alexander Georgia; despite having feelings for another man. But, what happens when she discovers that the man whom she had feelings for only approached her for business purposes against Alexander? And also… What happens when she realises that the man she calls a stranger, wasn't entirely a, 'stranger,' as they both have a past together. A past that could ruin their future.

Samantha "Sammy" Jacobs is a smart, witty, beautiful 22 year old struggling bartender in a small town in South Carolina, when a chance encounter one night brings about unfathomable wealth and opportunities to become the kind of humanitarian she could only dream of, but to get to that point she must encounter multiple hurdles along the way.

"I, Mia Harper, reject you, Alpha Lucien Storm." My voice cracked and my eyes were filled with tears. "You can't reject me, Mia. I'm your Mate." He muttered and my heart shattered jn my chest from all the pain and betrayal I'd endured. I shook my head. "Not anymore." - Mia Harper, a wolfless omega flees her wedding the night of her eighteenth birthday and as fate would have it, she runs into the arms of her mate, Lucien Storm—one of the most ruthless Alphas anyone had ever seen. But in a twist of fate, he takes Mia in. They soon fall in love but one visit to her Pack changes everything. Ezra, the man she was yet to marry a year ago is furious on her return and declares war. The war wipes out her entire Pack including her father. But then Mia finds out the truth. It was Lucien who had murdered her father. Disheveled and broken, the betrayal drives her to the edge of a cliff where she takes a leap to her death. But somehow, she's saved by Lucien. However, Mia doesn't remember anything. Would he tell her the truth or would Lucien take his second chance? What would happen when she finds out the truth? Would Mia ever forgive her mate, Lucien, especially after finding out she's pregnant with his children? And most importantly, did he really kill her Father?

Everyone in the Titanus region would have heard the older generation tell them this—during sky burials, the vultures wouldn't eat the corpses of people who'd committed heinous crimes. My husband is the sky burial practitioner who buries me. The vultures circle my corpse in the air above the burial site, but they don't prey on me. My husband frowns at the sight. "It looks like this person must have committed crimes when alive. They deserve this." Suddenly, I remembered him pointing at me, his eyes ablaze with flames of rage as he shouted, "Nancy wouldn't have lost her baby if not for you! Someone like you doesn't even deserve to get a sky burial!" It looks like his words are coming true. But later, he falls to his knees before my grave and weeps. He begs me to forgive him.

My wife forces my sister to accompany some men for drinks so she can help her first love get investments. My sister finds an opportunity to run but gets harassed by other drunken men. As she tries to break free, she has a heart attack, and she dies. I'm devastated as I handle her funeral alone. That's when my wife calls and snaps, "Tell your sister to apologize to Claude! Do you know how much trouble she's caused for him?" I don't know how much trouble he's in. All I know is that one must pay the price for the things they've done.

Everyone in Palermo knew Alessandro De Luca had a reputation. He was the Boss of the De Luca family, one of the oldest bloodlines in Sicily — a name tied to the port, the courts, and half the construction contracts in Palermo. Wealth, power, discipline—those things were expected. Romance was not. He didn’t chase women, and he never went back to the same one twice. Until me. When we broke up after a brutal argument, he did something no De Luca had done in generations—he stood outside the gates of the Moretti estate, my family home, for an entire day and night. I watched from behind the curtains and never opened the door. The next day, he came inside the estate kitchen himself. Alessandro De Luca, who grew up surrounded by servants, tried to cook my favorite seafood pasta with his own hands. He burned the sauce. I threw it away without tasting it. On the third day, he found the necklace my grandmother had left me—something my uncle had sold years ago—and bought it back, paying far more than it was worth, just to return it to me. At a formal family dinner, in front of elders and allies, he made it clear: No more women. Only me. It took him a year to win me back. That summer, fireworks lit up the Palermo coastline as he announced our engagement. I believed he had chosen me. Until the night of a private gathering at an old harbor estate. A young woman was being pulled forward in the middle of the courtyard, her dress torn at the shoulder, tears running down her face. Alessandro went still. Then he stood up. He didn’t look at me. He didn’t explain. He just walked toward her. And something inside me went cold. I rested my hand over my abdomen. There was something I hadn’t told him yet. He broke his word that night. So I broke mine.

I stood in the shadows, the scent of pine and frost heavy in the air, watching my mate, Ethan, smile—truly smile—for the first time in years. But not at me. At her. My cousin, Isla. His first love. She sat beside him, warm and glowing, with our pups, Lucas and Mia, curled up against her like she was their real mother. They were laughing, sharing bites of ice-cream cake, the kind Lucas once said made his stomach hurt. I was never meant to be here. I wasn't his choice. He didn't fall in love with me—he was assigned to me. To him, our bond was never about love. It was a political arrangement—an alliance between two packs: his power, my father’s ambition. A tie forged not by hearts, but by bloodlines and borders. He never touched me unless required. He never looked at me like I was his Luna. In that moment, as their laughter echoed under the full moon, I felt the mate bond falter—thin, fading, like breath in winter. And I knew. I had played my part long enough. So I turned away. It was time to severe the bond that was never truly mine. But when he sensed I was really leaving, when the tether between us began to snap, he broke. Dropped to his knees, clutching the pups like lifelines, his voice raw. "Please," he whispered, "don't leave me." Even the pups cried, reaching for me with shaking hands. "Mom, we’re sorry… We didn't mean it. Please don't go."

Have you guys ever encountered a gorgeous landlady when renting an apartment? I live just opposite mine. Initially, I think she's an aloof beauty. That impression changes when I catch her swaying her hips as she sweeps the staircase one day. Later, after we get to know each other better, she enthusiastically invites me to her place for some fun. One day, I hide in her closet and watch her and her husband get it on…