Rage Engine

Samson Carroll's father, who is the CEO of Carroll Group, is hospitalized, and my sister decides to return to the hospital to work as a nurse. She throws herself into the role—donating blood, helping with emergencies, and keeping watch at his bedside around the clock. Soon, everyone's calling her a hero in scrubs. One night, she blocks the hospital room's security camera. She plans to kill the patient and forge a will so that Samson will marry her. I tell her it's too dangerous. The Carrolls are an influential family with deep pockets and powerful connections, after all. A few kind words and a forged will aren't enough to sway them. But she lashes out at me, calling me an idiot. She says that everyone in Jansbury knows Samson does whatever his father tells him to do. I drag her home, still trying to talk sense into her. "The Carroll family has ties to both the authorities and the underworld. They're untouchable," I explain. "If Samson finds out you lied to him, the consequences are unimaginable." Halfway home, she grows increasingly agitated. "Tonight was my only chance, and you ruined it! You're just jealous I'm about to become a rich man's wife! Go to hell!" Then, in a fit of rage, she shoves me into an open manhole by the side of the road. When I open my eyes again, I'm back on the night I brought her dinner at the hospital.

The company had just taken off when a project my wife, Lenora Peterson, was in charge of ran into trouble. To ease her mind during her pregnancy, I went overseas in her stead, spending ten perilous years abroad before finally returning home, barely alive. Instead of the joyful reunion I had imagined, she greeted me with cold detachment and thinly veiled disgust. "Why are you back?" Lenora asked. "Today is Nathan’s housewarming party," she added. "Let’s head there first—we’ll talk later." We rode in silence the entire way. When we arrived, a ten-year-old girl came dashing over and clung to Lenora affectionately. “Mommy, why did you take so long? Daddy’s been waiting for you forever!” Daddy? My eyes burned with rage—until I saw my old friend Nathan Grant stepping out to greet us with a smile. "Lily, come to Daddy. Mommy’s tired—don’t bother her now." When I met Lenora’s eyes, the guilt I saw there told me everything I needed to know. I turned away and texted my assistant, Morgan Williamson, to begin acquiring the company that, by right, had always belonged to me. He soon reported back. "Mr. Brooke, the acquisition process will be completed in three days."

I never thought one broken promise could shatter my world twice. His name was Marcus. He swore he’d stay in touch when he left for that “year-long business trip.” Three months later, silence. No calls, no texts, nothing. On my birthday, drunk and done with heartbreak, I went home with a stranger. One reckless night. I slipped out before dawn, leaving a fake name. No more men. No more drama. Then the perfect job fell into my lap: personal assistant to Victoria Langford, a young, filthy-rich heiress. Live-in position, great pay, exactly what my sick little sister and I needed. I moved in, ready for a fresh start. Until I walked into her mansion and saw him. Marcus. In her arms. My fiancé was her boyfriend. Rage burned through me, but I swallowed it. I needed this job. He begged forgiveness, fed me lies about a big contract, how he never stopped loving me. Weak, stupid, lonely. I fell back into him. Secret touches, stolen nights, right under her nose. Then everything exploded. I came home to blood and sirens. Marcus swore he didn’t know what happened. But when the police started digging, he pointed the finger at me. How do I escape this? Who's the father of the child growing inside of me?

Lisa Wood n’a jamais oublié. À dix-huit ans, elle a vu l’homme qui dirigeait son enfance, Raphael Wood, tomber sous les balles de son propre protégé : Sesar Mcgir, le jeune bras droit de son père devenu monstre. Cette même nuit, Sesar est venu finir le travail dans sa chambre : un viol. Un souvenir indélébile, une grossesse cachée, et une haine qui a grandi avec son fils. Aujourd’hui, Lisa est policière. Et elle s’est reconstruite une façade. Mais au fond, elle n’attend qu’une chose : l’instant où elle pourra faire tomber l’empire Mcgir, pièce par pièce. Elle devient Dolce, une « favorite » parmi les femmes que Sesar garde près de lui. À ses risques et périls. Car se rapprocher de la bête, c’est aussi réveiller la flamme d’une rage brûlante… et d’une attirance malsaine, qu’elle croyait morte. Mais que faire quand l’homme qu’on hait est aussi le père de votre fils ? Quand la haine devient flamme, et que la justice devient vengeance ?

He Rejected Marking Ceremony, I Upgraded Mate The very first thing I decided to do after being reborn was to reject the marking ceremony with my Alpha mate Ethan. In my previous life, when Ethan tried to postpone our ceremony for the thirty-second time, I threatened him with the sacred laws of the Moon Goddess. Ethan eventually caved. To pacify my rage, he promised that nothing would interrupt us again. But that was the night his Omega mistress Ivy died. From that moment on, Ethan hated me with every fiber of his being. When I told him I was pregnant, he drowned me in the freezing North Sea. "You and that abomination in your belly deserve to die for her," he spat as he held my head under the water. I died in despair. But when I opened my eyes, I was back at the altar. Ethan looked impatient. "Selena, Ivy says her chest hurts.. We need to postpone the mark again." He expected me to beg. Instead, I unclasped the ceremonial collar and threw it in his face. "Go to her. I quit." Ethan sneered, "Stop acting. Without my scent, you’ll be back crawling on your knees in a week." He didn't know that an hour later, I was knocking on the door of his mortal enemy—Damon, the Tyrant of the North. When I posted a photo of the Winterborn Alpha’s ring on my finger with the caption "Upgrade my mate," Ethan went mad…

She was supposed to be the thief who stole from his empire.   Instead, she became his wife. Arielle Vasquez wakes up bound to Matteo Moretti—a tattooed, ruthless enforcer of the Moretti clan, a bastard son burning with rage and a hunger for validation. Their marriage is a punishment, a cage of suspicion and hate. He sees her as a liar, a liability. She sees him as the enemy who stole her freedom. But the first night changes everything. She gasped as Matteo pinned her against the wall of their wedding suite, his breath hot against her throat, ink-dark eyes devouring her defiance.   “You think you can play games with me, little thief?” he growled, his fingers digging into her hips, possessive, punishing. “I’ll break you before you break me.” Arielle lifts her chin, lips brushing his ear in a whisper. “Try it. I dare you.” As secrets unravel and betrayals cut deeper, the line between enemy and obsession blurs. Every touch during late-night raids, every heated argument that ends with her back against a wall and his mouth crashing down on hers, pulls them closer to surrender.   But the real danger isn’t the Russians closing in.   It’s the heartless man who’s starting to want her more than revenge.   And the woman who’s beginning to crave the darkness he offers. In a world built on blood and power, love is the deadliest weapon of all.

All because I opened a window to air out the room, my husband’s childhood sweetheart, Celine Ashcroft, caught a cold. In a fit of rage, my husband, Ronan Blackwood, had his men bind me and drag me down to the ice cellar despite my being five months pregnant. "Don’t think that just because you’re carrying my child, you can bully Celine. If even a single hair on her head is harmed, I’ll make you repay it a hundredfold!" Shivering violently from the cold, I knelt through tears, begging for forgiveness. I promised that from now on I would serve his precious sweetheart well to atone, that I would never again let her suffer even the slightest harm. He only gave a cold order to seal the cellar, saying I needed to be taught a lesson so it would be burned into my memory. A week later, when Celine finally recovered from her cold, he finally remembered me in the cellar. "Vesper, have you truly realized your mistake? As long as you agree to kneel and apologize to Celine immediately, I’ll spare you." What he didn’t know was that by then, I had already frozen stiff in that ice cellar. And the child he had treasured so dearly no longer showed even the faintest sign of life.

After an incident that occurred nineteen years ago when Kayla Jonathan lost a friend who she betrayed during a final hearing, she lived with a deep-well of guilt that could never go away until she fell deeply in love with a man on social media who eased a bit of her guilt. Unknowing to her, he harbors dark intentions against her. Before she realizes his intention, he already caught her in his ineluctable trap. He claims he's her dead friend, and promises to wreak vengeance on her for betraying him. “I’ll torture you until the last ounce of my rage falls,” he said to her. Kayla saw her friend's corpse buried into the ground, who then is this man torturing her with acrimony, but always fighting for her, caring for her, giving her irresistible urges she can't fight? She believes he cannot be her late friend, and must try to escape from him. But what happens when Kayla finds there are mysteries behind the man who poses as her dead friend? Mysteries and secrets relating to what happened the year her friend died. Mysteries that awake her curiosity to know more of him. These mysteries strongly include her. N/b; 1) You may find some unusual contents in this book, but the work of fiction can be manipulated. Whatever you find unusual is the author's own idea. 2) This book is strictly rated 18.

He took everything. Now she'll take him—for 21 unforgettable nights. Three years ago, billionaire Damien Cross seduced Aria Kane, stole her family's business secrets, and destroyed everything she loved. Her father's company collapsed. Her world shattered. She was left with nothing but rage and a burning need for vengeance. Now, Aria has inherited her grandfather's billion-dollar empire—and she's more powerful than Damien ever imagined. His own company is crumbling, his enemies are circling, and she holds the evidence that could bury him forever. Her offer is simple and sinful: Give her 21 nights. Submit completely to her every demand. Let her strip away his control, his pride, his defenses. Do whatever she commands. In exchange? She'll save his dynasty. Each night pushes new boundaries. Each encounter blurs the line between punishment and pleasure. He's supposed to grovel. She's supposed to feel nothing. But feelings don't follow the rules of revenge. As corporate warfare explodes around them and dangerous enemies emerge from the shadows, Aria and Damien must face an impossible question: Can love survive when it's built on lies, power games, and 21 nights of payback? Some lines should never be crossed. But oh, crossing them feels so good.

Everyone has gathered around to play games together. The current game requires all players to transfer red wine to each other via our mouths. Before my fiance, Teodoro Lamperti, is able to transfer the wine to me, his female best friend, Cristina Ghedini, shoves me away before kissing him on the mouth right away. "What are you doing? Today is Serafina's big day, you know!" Teodoro might be complaining on the outside, yet he's patting Cristina gently on the back. The atmosphere in the villa becomes eerily silent. Everyone stares at me as I sit on the floor in a wretched manner. Cristina merely smiles nonchalantly. Then, she leans against Teodoro's shoulder. "Don't be so petty, Serafina. Teodor and I are as thick as thieves since we were kids. We're used to sharing everything together." Teodoro begins advising me as well. "It's just a game, Serafina. You've always been gracious, haven't you? Don't act like a sore loser." Everyone thinks that I'll explode into rage and flip the table of food over, like I had done in the past. But this time, I just draw to my feet and take off the engagement ring. Then, I slide it onto Cristina's finger. "This ring is yours now. Congratulations on your marriage. Remember to invite me to your wedding."