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" No ! No! ! I didn't; I didn't do it ! I wasn't the one who killed your child let me go , I'm not guilty Your highness !" The woman's fuchsia hair was dishevelled and her dark oceanic blue eyes glimmered with despair , without a month's bath, her entire body was covered in stink and dirt . With her trembling shoulders , she cut a sorry figure but none , not one person standing in front of her felt pity for her . The woman was Chelsea Kaisen who was currently being held responsible for the crime of killing the unborn child of the Emperor ; Rogue Kellington . " Chelsea Rosalie Kaisen ; I ; The Emperor on account of the various witnesses and proves ; claim you as the culprit for killing the child of the Empress ; Lilian Amelia Kaisen. With Your Criminal record, This Emperor penalizes you with death due dismemberment " " No ! No , I didn't, Your Majesty I didn't!" Once the sentence fell in her ears Chelsea plunged to the greatest despair . She struggled against her cuffs but her magic failed against them , the harder she struggled the tighter they became . " Father ; brothers! Tell his majesty I didn't do it " When her pleas remained unheard by the Emperor . Chelsea could only turn her plea to her family yet no one listened to her . Instead they were consoling a pretty looking woman with silvery blonde hair and bright blue eyes . When The woman saw Chelsea look her way she shrunk into the embrace of the the man who looked so diffrent yet similar to her . " What are you waiting for; drag that criminal away!" when Rubious Kaisen saw his sister trembling in fear he immediately yelled the guards to take Chelsea away . Even though both were his sister yet he only supported Lilian not her . Coverart notmine - comment/email at somilsingh8400@gmail.com to takeitdown

Titre : Altitude Interdite À trente mille pieds d’altitude, les lois du désir échappent à la gravité. Mila, hôtesse de l’air élégante et insoumise, connaît parfaitement les règles du ciel… et comment les contourner. Habituée aux jeux de regards et aux plaisirs furtifs, elle pensait pouvoir maîtriser toutes les turbulences. Jusqu’à ce qu’elle soit affectée à une nouvelle rotation long-courrier sous les ordres du commandant Nolan Elven . charismatique, froid, terriblement attirant. Entre eux, la tension est immédiate. Un mélange de provocation, de défi, et d’attirance brûlante. Mais à bord, il y a aussi Zoé, une autre hôtesse au charme félin, ancienne amante de Nolan , et qui n’a pas dit son dernier mot. À mesure que les escales s’enchaînent, les limites s’effacent. Dans les hôtels d’escale, les uniformes tombent et les jeux interdits commencent. Mila se retrouve prise dans un triangle électrique, entre le commandant qu’elle veut dompter… et la femme qu’elle ne peut ignorer. Jeux de pouvoir, jalousies, corps emmêlés dans des nuits où tout se consume jusqu’à ce qu’un choix s’impose. Mais à trop voler près du feu, Mila risque de s’y brûler.

She gave her submission to a stranger. He was never a stranger at all. Vivian Ashworth is the perfect executive assistant. Polished. Professional. Unflappable. Nobody knows about her secret life: the anonymous platform where she kneels for a Dom who calls himself Sir. For six months, he's commanded her through screens and encrypted messages, pushing her limits, learning her body, knowing things about her desires she's never told anyone. By day, she works for Alexander Kane—CEO of Kane Industries, demanding perfectionist, the kind of boss who makes assistants cry and competitors tremble. She hates him. She respects him. She definitely doesn't dream about him. Then Alexander says four words that shatter her world: "Or should I say... Velvet?" Her anonymous Dom. Her impossible boss. The same man. He's known who she was from the beginning. Every confession she typed in the dark. Every fantasy she whispered through her phone at 2 AM. Every time she begged for permission to come. He was testing her. Training her. Waiting. Now he wants to formalize everything. A contract. Total power exchange—at work and in his bed. No more hiding. No more pretending. Complete submission in exchange for complete care. She should refuse. She should run. She should report him to HR and never look back. Instead, she's kneeling in his penthouse, reading the contract, and realizing her body has already signed. But Alexander has enemies. His bitter ex-submissive knows their secret and wants revenge. The lines between professional and personal are blurring dangerously. And Vivian is discovering that surrender isn't the same as weakness—it's the most terrifying kind of strength. The contract is about to become a problem. Will she sign away her heart along with her submission? Or will the man behind the mask prove that control and love aren't mutually exclusive?

Trois jours avant les fiançailles, Lucien Thomas m'a appelée : « Reportons notre cérémonie de fiançailles d'un mois. Ce jour-là, ce sera le premier concert de Lily Moreau après son retour en France, je ne peux pas ne pas y aller. » « Ce n'est qu'un report de fiançailles, rien de grave. » C'était la troisième fois qu'il a repoussé notre cérémonie de fiançailles cette année. La première fois, c'était parce que Lily avait eu une appendicite à l'étranger et avait été hospitalisée. Il avait dit qu'il devait aller s'occuper d'elle et il s'était précipité là-bas sans attendre. La deuxième fois, c'était parce que Lily avait dit qu'elle n'allait pas bien. Craignant qu'elle ne sombre dans la dépression, il avait immédiatement réservé un billet d'avion pour l'étranger. Et c'était la troisième fois. J'ai simplement répondu d'accord, j'ai raccroché puis je me suis tournée vers l'homme élégant et fier à mes côtés : « As-tu envie de m'épouser ? » Plus tard, lors du concert de Lily, Lucien l'a pourtant laissée sans hésiter et, les yeux rougis, il s'est précipité à ma cérémonie de fiançailles. « Léa Bernard, veux-tu vraiment te fiancer avec cet homme ? »

Years after graduation, someone suddenly tags me in the class group chat. "Mr. Warren is gravely ill, Mira. Aren't you going to do anything? You really are heartless!" I only realize what's going on when I click on the fundraising link in the chat. Our high school homeroom teacher, Joseph Warren, has late-stage cancer. Thus, Lyra Fairfield, the class belle, is leading a fundraiser and patient-donor matching process. "I'll donate ten thousand dollars. My husband is the director of Waverly General Hospital, and I've already asked him to arrange a VIP ward for Mr. Warren." Right after I send that message, the group pounces on me. "Mira, you contracted an STD back then and tried to pin it on Lyra. She didn't even hold it against you, and now you're trying to steal her thunder? You're unbelievable!" "I can't believe you're still lying through your teeth during such a serious situation. You never change, do you?" Lyra immediately defuses the tension. "Mira, I don't blame you for what happened in the past, but you really shouldn't impersonate the director's wife. I've already arranged the ward and surgery, and I'm donating another 100 thousand dollars to Mr. Warren!" I'm this close to laughing out of sheer anger. She's the one who scratched her name off the diagnosis report and framed me for having an STD all those years ago. I never even confronted her about it, and now she's playing the victim? Lyra soon posts a photo in the group chat, showing off her husband's car. Yet, when I see the man in the passenger seat, I guffaw. Isn't that my husband's driver? When did he start running a hospital?

“Paige Miller. Stay here for a bit.” He said when my foot was already out the door. I swallowed hard and looked at Darla who just shrugged and closed the door. I was alone with the hot Callan Montgomery Holden. “So, Paige. I thought you were a bartender.” “And I thought you were just a rich asshole kissing girls all day. Never would've peg you for a CEO, boss.” “Hmm. You're funny. I like you.” “Please don't.” I said and he chuckled again. He bit his lower lip, and I could feel myself wanting to hump him right there on his swiveling chair. “You're thinking the same thing I am, right?” “That I should report you to HR for sexual harassment?” “Ha! Good one. But no. I know you want me too. Right here right now. I can feel you getting hot and wet.” “From the way you kissed me, last night? Sorry, but no. Besides, I'm married.” I lied. I realized I was being stupid and reckless when I remembered it was very specific in the job listing that I had to be single with no kids. “Okay, look. I'm not married, but I'm not interested either. I can't afford to be your next plaything. I need this job to save enough money to start my own small business and not work for anyone ever again. So, please. I know you're probably a great guy, but I'm just not interested. So, if there's nothing else you need professionally, good day, Mr. Holden.” “Sure. But they always say that at first. You'll come around.” If I didn’t have a daughter to think of, I'd have made you come in my mouth already you rich spoiled brat!" I wanted to say, but of course absolutely couldn't.

I knock on the door, heart pounding like it always does when I’m about to see him. “Come in,” Justin’s voice calls—cool, smooth, and frustratingly calm. I take a deep breath and walk in, holding the folder tightly. “Here’s the report you requested, sir.” He doesn’t even glance at me. Just keeps typing, his expression unreadable. “You’re late,” he says without missing a beat. I clench my jaw. “There was a delay at the printer—” “No excuses, Joanna. Just do better next time.” Ouch. Professional and cold. As always. I nod, ignoring the sting in my chest. “Yes, sir.” I turn to leave, gripping the doorknob—just one more second and I’ll be out of this weird tension-filled office— “Wait.” I freeze. I turn around slowly. “Yes?” Justin stands now, walking toward me. In his hand, a familiar brown paper bag. He holds it out. “You didn’t have lunch.” I blink. “I’m fine.” “You skipped breakfast too. Eat.” I hesitate. “What is it?” “Chicken pesto. No onions.” My breath catches. He still remembers? “Why are you doing this?” I ask quietly. He shrugs, not meeting my eyes. “I just… remember things.” My fingers brush his as I take the bag. Warmth. Stupid warmth that shouldn’t still feel this familiar. Then, he looks at me—really looks at me. “You shouldn’t skip meals… wife.” Silence. My chest tightens. “Don’t call me that.” But my voice is too soft to sound convincing. I walk out before I say something I’ll regret. His words echo in my mind like a dangerous lullaby. Cold one second. Kilig the next. God… he’s still him. And that’s exactly the problem.

“Ma’am, there’s no marriage record between you and Mr. Mark Henderson in the system.” My fingers tightened around the pregnancy report as my legs nearly gave out beneath me. Five years ago, Mark was recruited by a top law firm abroad with a high-paying offer. Without hesitation, I followed him across the ocean. He had told me, “Once I’m settled, I’ll take care of your status.” However, five years had passed, and my lawful permanent residence was still “in process.” Meanwhile, his assistant, Tonya Irving, who followed him abroad, had secured hers under his sponsorship. Back then, I made a scene, insisting on a divorce so I could return home. For the first time, the ever-composed Mark, an attorney, lost his calm. He grabbed my hand and said, “Tonya’s all alone out here, and it hasn’t been easy for her. Helping her is just the right thing to do. You’re my wife. Your status is only a matter of time. My work is sensitive right now, and I need to avoid any complications. You understand, don’t you?” But I had understood him for five whole years. My phone suddenly rang. Mark’s voice came through, light with laughter. “Tonya’s permanent residence was approved today. We’re celebrating tonight. I need you to get home early and cook up a feast.” I stared at the marriage license in my hand—now nothing more than a worthless piece of paper. A cold chill spread down my spine. As it turned out, I was never his legal wife. I had no legal status and no protection, much less rights secured for the child I was carrying. After hanging up, I scheduled an abortion and booked the earliest flight home. This time, I wouldn’t look back.

SIX-PACK SERIES BOOK ONE *The six-pack series is a collection of steamy werewolf shifter novels about a group of six aligned werewolf packs, the young alphas that run them, and the strong-willed women that bring them to their knees. If you're new to the series, start here!* GRAY : I've got a lot on my plate. Not only do I have a pack to protect, but I keep the whole six-pack territory secure by training and running the security squad. The new recruits are here for the summer, and it's my job to whip them into shape. I can't afford any distractions, but one of the female recruits is doing just that- distracting me. Fallon is the most frustrating girl I've ever met; she's all alpha female, and she openly challenges my authority. She's so far from my type, but for some reason, I'm drawn to her. It'll be a challenge to break her, but by the end of the summer, she will learn to obey her alpha. By the end of the summer, I'll have her on her knees. ~ FALLON : All I've ever wanted was to be part of the six-pack's security squad, defending our territory as a fighter. I've finally got a chance to live out my dream- all I have to do is make it through summer training camp and prove myself. I thought that the toughest part of training camp would be the actual training, but the alpha running the place is even tougher. One sarcastic comment, and Alpha Gray seems hellbent on making an example out of me, provoking me at every opportunity. He wants me to fall in line, but I'll be damned if I'm going to roll over. Sure, he's insanely hot. He's an alpha. But I'm not backing down. He's not my alpha.

He is a star. The biggest artist in the world. His life is never private. Heck! how can his life be? His father is one of the world most richest and most influential men. His mother, who was once an actress and supermodel, now owns a huge clothing line. Immediately at his birth, he was crowned heir to both empires. So, his life has been for public showcases. She is a nerd whose life is being defined by her GP. Attending one of the most prestigious universities in the world due to a scholarship. She sticks her nose further in her books,a social outcast. Not that she minded anyway. With an aim in mind to help her family out of their debts and misery, she strives to be the best. Fate seems to have other plans for her as she meets this megastar in an unseemly when she is mistaken as an obsessed fan and got her ankle sprained by his body guard. What happens when he can not get her out of his mind, and she is back to forgetting him. And he makes it his mission to find her. What's installed for two polar opposites who find a way to meet each other. "I would not tell anybody about today's incident, not that I have anybody to tell, really." Gemma said as the van stopped in front of the hospital "I am sorry for what he did. Please don't go around telling people about this." Kayden said to her. "For the 100th, I won't tell anyone, and I don't know you or even care." Gemma said as she limped down from the van. "I am sorry, when I go live on stargram, just leave a comment like it's broken ankle." Kayden said, giving her an apologetic smile.