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For five years, I was married to Joshua Grayson. He was known as the gentleman of the tech industry and was never arrogant. In fact, he was always cool and collected. A shame we never had any children of our own. I asked every single doctor I could get my hands on, but nothing helped. For that, I kept beating myself up. Joshua told me that it was fine if we had no children, and that what mattered was that our souls were perfect for each other. We did not need any children to secure our bonds. I believed him. And then I found an unsealed box of Plan B in a secret space in his study. It looked exactly the same as the vitamin tablets he fed me all the time. A phone sat under the box. The screen was a photo of him with his top secretary, Yvonne Wellington. It was a family of three. Then, a message popped up on the screen. 'Our girl's born, Joshua! Haven't thought of her full name yet, so we'll call her Cece for now.' 'Oh, right, you fed your wife contraceptives for five years. Now that we have a perfect family, you should kick her out and make me your wife instead. When's that going to happen?' The message hit me like a lightning bolt that came out of nowhere. To think I wasted five years beating myself up for never getting a baby. To think I looked forward to one. And now, everything was crumbling around me.

To take care of my paralyzed mother-in-law, I quit my job and spent three years as a full-time househusband. That day, after cleaning up her waste, I hid in the bathroom with a cigarette between my fingers and came across a post on my wife’s boss’ Instagram. [You’re meant to be with me in the end. Since that freeloader can’t give you happiness, let me take you to the paradise of Maldev.] Above the caption were two plane tickets. Someone commented below. [That homemaker husband of hers is definitely clinging onto her. After all, she’s his meal ticket.] The boss replied. [Don’t worry. Tonight she’ll go home and come clean. She’ll say the company was caught falsifying accounts and is facing massive fines, and that she might need to serve jail time. [To keep that guy from getting dragged into it, the only option is divorce. He’s as timid as a mouse and will take any chance to flee.] I stared at the screen, stunned, until the cigarette burned my fingers. Ten minutes later, my wife rushed home, panic written all over her face. She dropped her bag on the floor. “Honey, something’s gone wrong with the company’s finances. They’re accusing us of falsifying accounts. I was solely responsible for the accounts. I might need to serve 10 years in prison, plus fines of more than ten thousand dollars. “We need to sign the papers before they seize our house. I don’t want to drag you and mom into this.”

The cocktail hour had just ended when I picked up a video call in the bridal suite. It was Ethan, three years from now. By then, time‑travel tech had matured enough to let him contact me three years into the past. After enough specific details, I finally believed it. The man on the screen really was Ethan, three years older. I rubbed my aching ankle and pouted at him through the screen. "Ethan, smiling at all these guests is exhausting. But the second I remember I actually married you today, I'm happy all over again." "We're still happy three years from now, right?" He was leaning back against a headboard, and he didn't answer. His face was flat and unreadable. Then I heard it: a woman's voice from his end, low and breathy, asking to be kissed. I froze for a second, then covered my mouth and laughed. "Is that future me? In broad daylight? Get a room." Ethan turned the camera into the bed. My maid of honor was lying there, naked, sprawled across his chest. Her body was covered in hickeys. He looked straight at me as I started to break, and his voice didn't shift at all. "As soon as the reception ended, I told you I had a client meeting. I went to her room instead." "Jo, now you know what's coming. The guests haven't gone home yet. If you want a divorce tonight, you can have one. Up to you."

In order to protect me, Don Salvatore deliberately announces that my fiance, Simone Pozzi, is his long-lost son. Simone shakes with excitement when he sees the man in a bespoke suit stepping out of the Rolls-Royce that is parked outside my house. Just as I'm about to tell him it's all a lie, he shoves me aside. He even brushes his sleeves in disgust, as if he has touched something filthy. Simone says, "Stay away from me. Don't let your poverty rub off on me! Since I'm the Don's son, we'll call off our engagement. An illegitimate bastard like you isn't even fit to wipe my shoes!" When I try to explain, he cuts me off by writing out a check and flinging it hard into my face. The sharp edge of the paper slices across my cheek. "Take this one million dollars as our breakup fee and don't bother me again. We're no longer from the same world," Simone says. I watch the check flutter down into the mud and quietly turn off my phone screen. On the screen is a message Papa—Don Salvatore—has just sent me, "Just bear with it a little longer, Principessa. Papa will bring you home soon to take over the famiglia." Simone is so determined to cut himself off completely. He might have the luck to claim a fortune that big, but not the life to enjoy it.

On Christmas Eve, my parents and my fiancé, Ivano Dominici, finally agree to accompany me to Iberion to see the aurora. But when I arrive there, they never show up no matter how long I wait. I send messages to ask. They reply helplessly that something urgent has come up at the last minute and tell me to go to the observation point and wait. I stand alone on the icy field, turning back every few minutes to look at the road behind me. When my hands grow numb from the cold, I scroll my social media feed and see a recent post from my younger sister, Giada Soave. Holding gifts in her arms, she sits beneath a luxurious crystal Christmas tree with my parents embracing her from both sides. Ivano stands behind her with his hand resting lightly at her waist and his eyes full of tenderness. The caption reads, "Merry Christmas, I'm grateful to spend the holiday with those who love me most!" The comments section buzzes with blessings, praise, and envious messages. I stare at the screen for a long time without moving. This is not the first time they break their promise to me because of Giada. But this time, I do not argue or make a scene. I simply type and send one line calmly in the comments, "I wish your family of four a Merry Christmas." I finally let go of my obsession and stop waiting for people who will never come to me. But when I quietly step away, the ones who cannot let go turn out to be them.

Five years ago, I was his life and I thought we would be the end game until Rosalin, his new assistant, seeped into our life. It began with urgent late night meetings. Our dinner conversations, once filled with shared secrets and soft laughter, were replaced by the rhythmic tapping of his thumbs against his phone. He stopped looking at me across the table, his gaze permanently fixed on the glowing screen as he replied to her "emergency" texts. When I’d walk into his office, the air would turn brittle. He’d stop talking mid-sentence, Rosalin leaning over his shoulder with a look that wasn't professional. But the breaking point was when he left me waiting for six hours on our anniversary Gala to celebrate Rosaline’s birthday. “We got occupied with something, Victoria.” He said, “Rosaline has brought cake for you. It was her birthday as well.” Just then a notification came into my phone. It was Rosaline’s post. She had posted a picture minutes before entering the gala. She was sitting in a seven-star hotel, the one I asked Jayden to book for our Anniversary but he refused after saying it was full. She had been cutting her birthday cake surrounded by red candles’ flames and a pair of hands had cupped hers. Jayden’s hands. He had ghosted our Anniversary Gala to celebrate Rosaline’s birthday! That was when I realised, I had no future with this man. I will disappear from his world, taking his child with me.

I was an unfortunate omega, auctioned off like a lamb, sold to a ruthless Alpha billionaire named Dominic Bloodhound. I was meant to be nothing but a plaything, a pet. Except, Dominic didn’t treat me like any of those things, he barely even looked at me, but my mother was right… all Alphas are the same, cunning, ruthless, and devoid of emotion. Dominic never bought me out of the sheer kindness of his heart, he bought me because of the witch doctor he’s been hunting in secret, and I couldn’t let him use me to hunt my own bloodline. Now standing there after barely having escaped, he looks down at me with his gold eyes gleaming. “Join me,” he said simply. “And help me bring Dominic to his knees.” I take his hand, ignoring the voice in my head, screaming that I’m making a deal with the devil. “Then let’s destroy Dominic Bloodhound.” The enemy of my enemy is supposed to be my friend, right? **** Lyra Graves strikes a dangerous bargain with an Alpha, but as she dives deeper into the world of deception, forbidden attraction, and mysterious power, there’s only one question that haunts Lyra’s mind. What if the real monster isn’t the Alpha she seeks revenge against, but the one she’s slowly falling for? An Omega with everything to lose. An Alpha with everything to prove. And a bond that refuses to die. Flip the page and jump into the town of Ravenshire, where it all began...

"I used to be the well-respected Lady Kara. Everyone feared me! No one beneath me dared to so much as look me in the eye or remain sitting whenever I walked into a room, but now, I've lost everything! My life, my status, my man, all gone! I've become a nobody all because of that bitch who suddenly came and stole everything from me. I hate her so much!!!" It seems the battle she fought so hard for had been lost by Omega Kara, and she is now left to rot and suffer in a cruel world full of people just like her former self. But does the goddess give second chances? Is it possible for the darkest and evilest of hearts to turn a new leaf and become pure and white as snow? With all of her past behaviours, Kara was deemed the devil herself; now it's time for her to pay for her crimes and receive her dose of the same pain and suffering she caused others. But what will happen when the moon goddess decides not just to give her another chance to mend her ways but also an unexpected mate? The man whom she hated the most. Another adventure awaits in The Beta's Unexpected Mate (Book 2 of the werewolf mate series). Book 1- The Alpha's Hated Slave Mate Book 2- The Beta's Unexpected Mate For updates on character reveals and character quotes, as well as all of my books, follow my Facebook page, Eyitee's library.

"I want a divorce," Cheryl said, placing the printed documents on his desk. Brian did not even hesitate. He signed his name at the bottom of the page and pushed the papers back across the table. "Take whatever money you think you deserve. Just make sure I never have to see you again." That was four years ago. Cheryl had spent three years in an arranged marriage, punished daily by her husband for vicious rumors she never actually committed. When Brian chose to pamper her manipulative stepsister while treating Cheryl with absolute cruelty, she finally walked away. She also chose to hide the fact that she was pregnant with his child. Today, Cheryl returns to the United States as the highly successful executive of Caldwell Biotech. She is solely focused on dominating the medical industry and raising her intelligent four-year-old daughter, Mira. When a massive business deal forces Brian and Cheryl into the same boardroom, Brian is shocked. He expects to easily intimidate the wife he discarded, but he is met by a powerful businesswoman who effortlessly blocks his every move. The corporate rivalry is difficult enough, but Brian soon crosses paths with the young girl standing by Cheryl's side. The child shares his exact features, prompting Brian to aggressively investigate the years Cheryl spent away from him. He is determined to uncover the truth, but he is about to learn that his wealth cannot buy back the family he deliberately destroyed.

Every witch awakened a gift when she came of age. Mine was simple. I could siphon my husband's fortune. On Christmas Eve, my husband spent 20,000,000 on a ring and proposed to his mistress as if he were buying a headline. The trending page exploded. Everyone waited to see how quickly I would be thrown out. The pathetic wife was finally swept out the door. When I stayed quiet, Jasper Prescott's tone turned playful, almost indulgent. "She's just a kid. She wanted the whole 'moment.' Your place isn't going anywhere." Then he added, as if assigning me a chore, "She's young. She can't handle things. Pay more attention to the engagement party's details." As though he feared I might cause trouble, he slid a black card across the table with casual ease. "Babe, you know what I value most," he said. "You being sensible." I pinched the cold card between my fingers, smiled, and nodded. No one knew the rule hidden inside our marriage. After we married, every time Jasper betrayed me, I took a piece of his fortune, stripping it from him one point at a time and adding it to my own. Once Christmas was over, I would take whatever he had left.