Numbers Don't Lie

Elena Jones and I became orphans on the same day. Her parents are killed in a mass murder, and my father—the killer—is executed on the spot. For a month straight, Harborfield's most notorious playboy waits outside the courthouse, intent on keeping Elena. However, she throws his black card right back at him, like a headstrong heroine straight out of a movie. "The Mr. Carter I admire is refined and noble. How could he have a nephew like you? I'd rather starve than accept anything from a thug." He lets out a sharp, amused laugh and crooks a finger at me. "A death row convict's daughter and a thug make a fitting pair. I'll back you. Are you willing?" While clutching the ten-million-dollar IOU my father left behind, I nod without hesitation. Later, he orders me to get into his uncle Daniel Carter's bed. "With all that sin on your shoulders, you're an even better match for him. That way, Elena will finally give up on him for good."

Lahat tayo ay gagawin ang lahat para sa pag-ibig. Pero hanggang saan? Millicent Iris Escoleto is not supposed to be inlove with her bestfriend, Blake Nicolas Gandia but she is. And that feeling she has for him will put everything at stake.

His fingers were already at the lace between my thighs when he pushed me against the marble vanity, breath hot, voice darker than sin, his arousal pressing against my throbbing core. "Open your legs for me, Mrs Valentino." He didn’t wait. He plunged into me roughly, his mouth trailing down my neck like he owned it. I hated the way my body arched for him. I hated even more that he smirked when it did. I was supposed to be terrified, not trembling for the man who forced a ring onto my finger two days after abducting me. Before Dante Valentino touched me like that... before he whispered filth and promises into my ears, I was Valentina Morrison: a quiet girl, psychology graduate, volunteer counselor blissfully unaware that my entire life was a lie. I didn’t know the truth about my parents. I didn't know my bloodline belonged to a mafia empire that their hands were filled with blood. I only knew one thing the night I witnessed a murder in a Manhattan alley and it was that I was going to die...until he showed up. Dante, the most feared Italian boss in New York. He was ruthless and calculating. He didn't save me, he claimed me. Only because I’m not just some civilian. I'm the last surviving Castellano heir, the one piece of leverage that can rewrite the entire underworld. So Dante forced a marriage to protect me. To control me. To bind me to him in pleasure and law. And somewhere between running from gunfire and running from him, I made the worst mistake possible: I let the devil touch me. I let his hands teach my body a language my mind despises but my body craves. I let him explore me.

On the day of Lucas' engagement, he managed to get a few lackeys to keep me occupied, and by the time I stepped out the police station, done with questioning, it was already dark outside. Arriving home, I stood there on the doorstep and eavesdropped on Lucas and his friends talking about me. "I was afraid she'd cause trouble, so I got her to spend the whole day at the police station. I made sure that everything would be set in stone by the time she got out." Shaking my head with a bitter laugh, I blocked all of Lucas' contacts and went overseas without any hesitation. That night, Lucas lost all his composure, kicking over a table and smashing a bottle of liquor, sending glass shards flying all over the floor. "She's just throwing a tantrum because she's jealous… She'll come back once she gets over it…" What he didn't realize, then, was that this wasn't just a fit of anger or a petty tantrum. This time, I truly didn't want him anymore.

When he kissed her on his stage he loved it. T him she was an angel and she felt right in his arms. Little did he know whose daughter he was messing with and before he did, it was too late for any saving. Now that he blames her for his misfortune, she must pay no what what the cost is and he will stop at nothing till she does. Worse now that they live under the same roof or rather yet, same room. Will his thirsty for revenge cloud his judgement or will love conquer everything?

My wife, Lindsey Kelsey, suffers from an aversion to intimacy. For ten years of marriage, she pushed me away again and again. Then, on our anniversary, she abandoned me and, in front of the crowd, kissed another man with reckless passion before the two of them walked hand in hand into a luxury hotel. Afterward, Lindsey brazenly declared that a real man should be magnanimous, not petty. Magnanimous? Then I wish them both eternal bliss—may they be bound so tightly they can never break free from one another. Later, I handed Lindsey the divorce papers with a blank expression. I was determined to walk away from her. But Lindsey went mad when she realized she couldn't find me anymore.

My billionaire husband suffered from chronic insomnia for years. Only the sleep balm I made could help him sleep. On the night of our seventh wedding anniversary, his childhood sweetheart poured a basin of scalding water over the old camphor tree in our garden. I wept and tried to save the tree as she apologized, “I didn’t know you used its leaves to make the sleep balm.” My husband gently comforted her and ordered his men to tie me to the tree trunk instead. “What a precious tree. You’ll spend the rest of your days with it!” With my wrist fractured as a result, I filed for divorce immediately. A month later, my husband was unable to sleep late one night. He stood in the garden and stared at the withered camphor tree.

"Who are you?" I ask, gawking at this ugly man who looks like the devil himself. "Your savior." savior? I may not remember anything from my past, but one thing is for sure, according to my judgment: this monster-lookalike can't be a savior. And from whom did he supposedly save me? "And if you are done ogling me, now, on your knees. Time to serve the purpose for which I saved you." I am snapped out of my thoughts by him tearing his shirt and walking closer in a pretty unnerving way. "Whi...ch is?" I whimper, trying to stand up from the bed and perhaps run for my dear life. Unfortunately, he grabs me viciously before I can take a step. A loud growl slips from my lips as he slams me back on the bed and hovers atop me. "To please me, little dove." He hoarses, embarking on his evil, dirty mission.

Oh, God Not again, but again. All that flashed through my head in the space when Gavril let me back down, and bang! Bang! He cursed, pulling up my panties, then fastening his own pants. He had a gun out, and where did he get that gun? But he had it pointed down, and he took my hand, pulling me to the back of the shed. _____ Naomi finds herself trapped in a nightmare she never asked for. Held captive and was Forced into a marriage with the monster of her nightmares, she struggles to reclaim her identity and freedom. With every moment, her spirit is crushed as her name is erased, and her life is shattered. Garvril Kirilenko, a relentless and dangerous billionaire Boss , refuses to accept no for an answer. From the very beginning, his rough hands tore apart her dreams, leaving her with a choice: submit to a life of torment as his wife or face a fate worse than death. Their marriage, built on lies, becomes a twisted web of secrets and manipulation. The truth, if revealed, could cost her everything. But remaining silent means enduring the unimaginable. In the depths of his depravity, he breaks her, claiming her body as his own. Night after night, she surrenders to his dark desires, her suffering becoming his pleasure. Yet, amidst the pain, a glimmer of hope emerges when she discovers she carries his child. Now, with the life of their baby hanging in the balance, she must navigate a treacherous path to survival. Will she find the strength to protect herself and her child from the clutches of this monstrous Billionaire Boss? Or will she forever be trapped in a loveless, torturous existence?

Ever imagined a werewolf story with a little bit of danger? Just kidding—try a mafia bloodline soaked in violence, betrayal, and forbidden lust. The Evers don’t get fated mates. The Moon Goddess cursed their kind long ago. No bonds. No soul ties. Just power-hungry wolves who rule the underworld and marry for strategy—not love. Rivera fell in love with one brother but when a scandal scatters, the deal shifts. Now, she’s handed off to the older brother, Alpha, Don, Zayen Morozov. Cold. Dangerous. Merciless. She was never supposed to be his. But he’ll be damned if he lets her go. Story of Zayen Morozov and Rivera Dacian. Where the bad guys aren’t truly bad but aren’t good either.