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I had always been obedient and compliant. I never dared to disobey others' instructions. The day my wealthy biological parents brought me home, my adoptive brother leaned close to my ear and sneered arrogantly, "The position of the Spencer family's heir belongs to me. If you know what's good for you, get lost on your own." I nodded obediently. Then I turned around and threw myself straight into rush-hour traffic on the highway. My parents nearly lost their minds. Panicked and trembling, they dragged me back into the car, their faces drained white with terror. My sister's expression darkened as she warned me coldly in my ear, "If you pull another stunt for attention, believe me, I'll throw you right back into the doghouse you came from." I obediently listened. That very night, I locked myself inside a dog crate. My sister froze in complete shock. Gritting her teeth, she yanked me out, staring at me like she'd seen a ghost. Later, when my adoptive brother pretended to be sick, my sister forced me to donate blood for him. I obediently took the knife. Without the slightest hesitation, I slashed straight through the artery in my wrist. By the time my parents rushed over, blood had just begun spraying out. They screamed in horror and lunged forward to press against my wound. "Somebody call 911! Now!!!" My sister had gone just as pale. After a long moment of stunned silence, she finally stammered, "Mom, Dad… I only told him to donate a little blood to Eric. I never told him to slit his wrist…" I blinked. My sister wasn't lying. She really hadn't taught me that. It was something the traffickers taught me during the five years my family personally handed me over to them—to "learn obedience."

"You think because you pulled me from the Blacktide Waters, you own my bloodline, Franklin?" David’s voice is a low, predatory gravel, his massive frame trapping me against the cold stone of the den. His dominant alpha scent fills the space, thick with pine and raw, untamed heat. "You made the mating pact. Now stand still and let me claim my debt." "I told you it was a joke, Double D," I snap, my fangs pricking my lip as my inner wolf thrashes against the intoxicating weight of his presence. I twist beneath his grip, but his large, heavily calloused hands slide down my spine, burning right through the silver-weave fabric of my tunic. "We are in the middle of a territory war. My family’s manor is swimming in treason, and you're worried about an accidental bond?" "There are no accidents when our wolves touch," David growls, his lips brushing the sensitive skin right below my jawline, making a violent shiver rip down my spine. "Your scent is driving my beast insane, klinton. If you don't shut your mouth and press your body against mine right now, I'm going to take you right here on the stone floor, council rules be damned." Franklin Sterling is a fierce, exiled omega heir who has spent ten harsh winters enduring the brutal Ashgrove Wildlands after surviving an assassination attempt ordered by his own father. But when a violent storm strands him on the treacherous Skullmoon Isle, he drags a lethal, dominant Apex Alpha from the jaws of the Blacktide Waters: David Duskbane, the ruthless commander known across the territories as Double D. Can Franklin navigate the lethal vipers of his old den while fighting a suffocating, erotic bond with the most dangerous predator in the northern hemisphere?

On the day I get buried alive by the avalanche, my biological older sister, Whitney Linder, cuts off the safety rope wrapped around my waist in order to save Cameron Linder, the fake heir who has replaced me all these years. The snow is about to cover my head, and I can feel my warmth rapidly draining from my body. In despair, I begin screaming at Whitney. "Don't leave me behind, Whitney! Otherwise, my adoptive father's subordinates will settle the score with you by blasting the entire mountain into pieces!" Over the years since I get accepted back into the elite Linder family, I've been keeping up a cowardly and docile facade. Never have I ever mentioned my adoptive parents, who live abroad. Because of that, the Lindens have no idea that the married couple who have adopted me are actually the leaders of an international mercenary squad. My adoptive dad is a legendary sniper, whereas my adoptive mom is a demolitions expert. I'm the apple of the entire squad's eye. But Whitney pulls back the severed rope with a cold chuckle. "Keep dreaming, Skylar! You're just a country bumpkin who lies all the time, so you definitely don't have any powerful subordinates! You should be grateful to me for taking you here for a skiing trip without complaining about how much you embarrass me in public! "To think that you actually have the guts to fight for a chance of survival with Cameron! Don't you know that he mustn't suffer from any shock at all?" After that, Whitney leaves with Cameron in tow. "Since your adoptive parents are that amazing, why don't you get them to fly over in a helicopter to rescue you?" When the light above my head vanishes, I use what little strength I have to press the red button on the satellite-based GPS. What Whitney doesn't know is that she will die in the mountain once the signal is sent out.

On our seventh year anniversary, my girlfriend, Rachel Winters, forces me to drink a glass of drugged champagne before dumping me onto the bed of an 80-year-old widow. "It's Bryon's first time attending a business meeting. He's still pure and oblivious, so he doesn't know how to satisfy an older widow's insatiable desire. "I have no choice but to ask you to seal this business deal on his behalf. Think of this as your way of helping me repay Bryon's family for raising me since young. "Don't worry, Corey. No one will know about this." After that, Rachel turns off the lights and leaves the room while ignoring my pleas for help. But the next day, the video of me and the widow going at it is spread across the Internet. My colleagues look down on me for resorting to such underhanded methods just to get promoted. They can't believe that I'm able to stomach the idea of sleeping with an 80-year-old widow. Thanks to the video, the company's reputation is greatly affected. Rachel holds a press conference immediately to address the issue. I thought she'd defend me, but I didn't expect her to change her tune. "I've already discussed this matter with the Dalton family. Corey Dalton shall take responsibility for what he's done to the widow. As for me, I will get engaged to Bryon Parson." I feel as though lightning has struck me on the spot. I've founded this company with Rachel and has stuck by her side through thick and thin, resulting in us rising as the new-time business moguls. But in the end, she decides to ditch me. "Corey, if you really want to stay by my side, you can remain as my side piece. In exchange, I'll help you shake that old woman off your tail." As I meet Rachel's smug gaze, I shake my head decisively. "I've already thought things through and decided that I'll be marrying the widow."

“Oh… Lucien,” I moan, his name as he circles his thumb faster. I move my hips, with the rhythm of his finger. “Fuck… Maya,” he mutters, watching me squirt, his eyes dark with desire. He lowers his head, replacing his hands with his tongue. My eyes roll back in pleasure as his groan vibrates against my core. He continues to lap on my juice, his tongue stroking over my cunt until I can’t take it anymore. He stops between my thighs, and without warning, pushes a finger inside me. I cry out, my hips buck off the bed. “Maya,” he moans, his voice rough, “you’re soaking wet… so fucking wet.” He pulls his hand away, and my body betrays me instantly. Then he brings his finger to his mouth, licking the juice off while never breaking eye contact. Fuck, that turns me on. I can’t take the torture anymore. I grab his hand and press it back between my thighs. I see his face curl into a smirk. He finds this amusing. “You want me?” *** Three years ago, Maya defied her family’s objections and married Ethan, becoming his Luna. Although Ethan wasn’t her fated mate, Maya believed that love was stronger than destiny. But one day, when Maya finally receives the joyful news that she’s pregnant, she rushes to share it with her husband, only to see him returning with another woman in his arms. The woman is his fated mate. As Maya’s world collapses, she discovers she’s carrying twins, while Ethan’s true mate claims to be pregnant with his child. Betrayed, heartbroken, and stripped of everything, Maya decides to leave the pack and rebuild her life… until the man from her past returns to claim what was once his.

Noami grew up with an abusive mother, and so when she turned 18, she decided to hunt her ex-stepfather down as he was the only one who ever truly cared about her. She absolutely adores him, and he adores her right back. Can their love survive, albeit changed a drunken reunion, bullies from the past, and unwanted suitors? Or will everything they face tear them apart when they just found each other again? Or will his money play a part in his demise? I tilted my head back as I fell against his chest and he immediately lowered his head to press his lips against mine. Oh, God! Not again. This was bad. I needed to pull away. Why wasn’t I pulling away? Why was I opening my mouth so he could deepen the kiss? And why were my hands going under his shirt to stroke along his muscles? Fuck! I closed my eyes as I leaned against him, enjoying the kiss more than I should. When he finally pulled away, I looked up at him mesmerized by our kiss for the second time. He grinned down at me as his eyes danced merrily. “So, were you serious about what you said?” he asked huskily, confusing me. “What did I say?” I replied. His hands moved down my body until his hands were gripping my ass. “You said you were going to let me have you.” When my mouth dropped open in shock, he groaned. “Or we can start with that if you prefer.” I snapped my mouth shut when what he meant registered in my head. “Oh, God!” He chuckled as he pulled me up his body a little so that I could feel his erection. “Say yes and I’ll make you scream that.” “I-I…yes."

My husband, Damien, loved me deeply—so deeply it felt like I was his whole world. Everyone said he was the perfect husband. Yet, he betrayed me. Not once, not twice, but three times. The first time was three years ago. His closest friend, Aaron, died saving him. Damien kept it from me and secretly married Aaron’s girlfriend, Vivian—on paper. I was heartbroken and ready to leave him. That night, he sent her abroad and fell to his knees, begging me. “Estelle, Aaron gave his life for me. I must take care of his widow. That marriage certificate is just a promise of security for Vivian. Once I’ve avenged Aaron, I’ll divorce her. The only woman I love is you.” I forgave him. The second time came the following year. At a press conference, Damien publicly introduced Vivian as the Mafia leader’s wife. He pulled me aside to explain. “Vivian is the only daughter of the Young family—the Mafia. Our two families joined forces for one reason only: to get revenge for Aaron. I’ve already made arrangements with her. Once we’ve dealt with our enemies, I’ll divorce her and marry you right away.” Once again, I believed him. Then came the third time. Someone drugged Damien at a banquet, and he spent the night with Vivian. He hid it from me until just two weeks ago, when I caught him at the hospital, sitting beside her during a prenatal checkup. That was when I finally learned the truth. He lowered his head, unable to meet my eyes, and spoke in a low voice. “Estelle, it was an accident. Once she gives birth, I’ll send her away. My parents will raise the child, and I swear—neither of them will ever appear in your life again.” In the name of love, Damien pushed me to compromise again and again. Yet now I know. There’s no future left for us. It’s time for me to walk away.

Dad is famous for being a total simp over Mom in the elite society. Naturally, he views Callie Archer, the stepdaughter whom Mom has brought with her, as his own. But Callie is afflicted with a severe case of walking phobia. Her feet couldn't touch the ground at all. Only when she's stepping on my back can she roam around in the house freely. So, whenever Callie looks in a certain direction, Mom will press my head down and force me to crawl toward Callie to serve as her doormat. The doctor issues a warning to my family that my spine is severely contorted. So when Callie wants to admire the flowers in the yard while wearing a pair of spiked shoes again, I can't endure the pain anymore, so I shiver slightly out of instinct. Callie ends up losing her balance and falling to the ground. She bawls like a baby afterward. Mom rushes over immediately before kicking me in the gut, her high heel lodging into my flesh. "It's extremely rare for Callie to be willing to leave the house! Why must you ruin her mood? Can't you just be more understanding and play your role as a doormat for the sake of your sister's illness?" Meanwhile, Dad scoops Callie into his arms, his heart bleeding for her plight. He coaxes her gently, telling her that he'll buy her new dresses later. I can only curl up on the ground while hacking up blood. But Dad just thinks I'm playing the pity card. He commands his men to throw me into the basement. Apparently, I can only be released once I've learned to stay stationary when I'm supporting Callie. As I clutch my broken ribs, I feel my tears flowing down my face as well as the blood from my injuries. I'm sorry, Dad. Next time, I will definitely not move a muscle, just like a corpse.

At the afterparty, my daughter, Mia Volpe, suffers from a sudden asthma attack. She collapses to the carpeted floor and goes through a seizure on the spot. But my Capo husband, Lorenzo Volpe, wraps an arm around his secretary, Sophia Bianchi, while watching Mia suffer before his eyes. Sophia had once shown him a forged paternity test of Mia and him. As such, he firmly believes that Mia is the bastard child of me and a Soldato. When Mia tries to reach out for Lorenzo, her complexion already bluish-purple from suffocation, he merely averts his gaze with a disgusted look on his face. "Daddy… S-Save… me…" I look everywhere for Mia's inhaler like a madwoman, only to realize that it's already empty. Sophia covers her mouth while tittering softly. "Dear me, Mia sure has an affinity for acting! Elena, I can't believe you and your daughter are willing to go to such lengths just to get Lorenzo to pay attention to you! "Since Mia likes acting that much, she might as well make the performance perfect." She lifts a high-heeled foot before crushing Mia's fingers, which were attempting to curl around Lorenzo's pant leg. Poor Mia was in so much pain, yet she couldn't let out a single sound. All she could do was scream silently into the void with her mouth wide open. I kneeled on the floor, my forehead already bleeding from smashing it against the floor repeatedly. "Lorenzo Volpe, Mia is your flesh and blood! Please, I'm begging you! Give me some medicine or call a doctor!" But Lorenzo just looks at me coldly, as though he's looking at trash. "A bastard like her is better off dead. Elena Corleone, stop using such underhanded methods to spoil everyone's mood." At that moment, what little love I still harbor for this man completely dissipates as I feel Mia's heartbeat gradually weaken. I no longer beg him for help. With trembling hands, I press the button on the emergency transmitter that I've sworn I'd never touch. That transmitter is the direct line to the highest authority in Smeraldia—my father, Don Vito Corleone.