Scott Pilgrim Matthew Patel Novels & Stories

Exiled. Marked for death. Forgotten by her own blood. Michelle Morripin spent years living like a beast—until a cruel offer gives her the chance to reclaim what was stolen from her: her name, her place in the world… her revenge. All she has to do is bear the Supreme Alpha’s child. But there’s one problem: Matthew Dawolf doesn’t touch women. Legendary, untouchable, and feared, he keeps his distance from any female. No one has ever seen him falter. No one has ever seen him burn with desire. Until now. Disguised as a mere servant, Michelle infiltrates the castle, ready to complete her mission. But when she crosses paths with him, she realizes that the distant, indifferent Alpha everyone describes can’t take his eyes off her. He watches her. He hunts her. He wants her. And Michelle? She was supposed to seduce him. Complete her plan and walk away. But how do you escape the deadliest wolf in the kingdom when the real game has already begun—and the prize might be her own life?

WARNING: [R18] STORY WITH EXTREMELY EXPLICIT CONTENT She considered herself as Andrew's number one fan. Andrew Scott, a famous actor, and has always been the most beautiful highlight of Lana's fangirling years. She dreamed of seeing and embracing him. She dreamed of marrying him. But she never once thought in her fangirl life that all her dreams and fantasies about Andrew could have even more thrilling and romantic scenes. It was more than what she thought. But it wasn't easy because she knew for a fact they were from different worlds, so she was forced to stay away. But destiny has always had its own way of reuniting hearts set for one another. Because Lana met the young man again three years later. And this time she knew she could do nothing more, but introduce Andrew to Andrea, their daughter. The fruit of a nightly fulfillment of all of Lana's fantasies about her admired actor.

"I'm sorry…" Giselle had her face bowed in guilt and her skin flushed in shame. She never imagined she'd be meeting him again. Not so soon, at least. "You're sorry?!" Ethan repeated indignantly. "For what exactly? Seducing me at the nightclub? Making me bring you to my house and into my bedroom, only to find out the next morning that you're married? What the hell are you sorry for?!" "Everything…" "Sorry doesn't change a thing. You tricked me and that's it. I swear to God, I'll make you pay. I'll make you regret ever deceiving me, Mrs. Giselle Scott…" ************************************** A billionaire boss. A divorcée employee. Estranged Exes. An imperfect situation for a love story, but can Ethan Hunt call off the uncanny attraction he feels for his one-night stand? Will his resentment for her shadow his longing to have one more erotic night with her? Read to find out.

I never wanted to trap him. But my brother made sure Aaron Styles believed I did. One drugged drink. One night I can't remember. One pregnancy that sealed my fate. Aaron married me to avoid scandal, but he's made every day of our marriage hell. He thinks I schemed with my brother Matthew to trap him into this nightmare. He doesn't know I'm just as much a victim as he is. Now, after nearly dying to give birth to his daughter, he's throwing divorce papers at me while his perfect Anastasia stands by his side—the woman he was supposed to marry. I should sign. I should walk away. I should let him have everything. But he wants to take my baby too. Aaron Styles thinks he knows who I am. He thinks I'm a gold-digger, a manipulator, a liar. He's about to find out he was wrong about everything. And by the time he realizes the truth? It might be too late to win me back.

Emma Blanton twists her ankle, and my fiance, Matthew Harrison, insists on becoming her personal chauffeur. When I voice my disapproval, he makes an even more outrageous decision. He moves Emma into my apartment at Bellemont District—the apartment I bought with my own money. He argues like he's the victim, "You're being selfish. She's injured, and living alone is too dangerous for her right now. I'm just being a decent human being. "And that place is sitting empty anyway. Having someone there helps with security." On the morning we were supposed to get our marriage certificate, he doesn't show up. I call, expecting apologies. Instead, I hear, "Emma had a fever this morning—101 Fahrenheit. I had to take her to urgent care. We can postpone getting the marriage certificate. Her health can't wait." To hell with postponing! I grab my phone and call David Rockefeller. "Do you want to marry me? Then get to City Hall. I'm serious—right now."

On our wedding day, my wife's first love, Hank Scott, threatened to slit his wrists. She ignored him and went through with the ceremony anyway, until news arrived that he was dead, his blood staining the ground. From that moment on, Shirley Lowell withdrew into a convent, becoming the cold, distant woman everyone knew. In the name of atonement, she forced me to copy the Bible a thousand times and kneel in endless prayer, grinding me down until I was crippled. Bound to a wheelchair, I asked her for a divorce. She refused, saying we owed Hank a debt and had to atone for it together. She used my family to threaten me, keeping me by her side and tormenting me for the rest of my life. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on our wedding day. This time, I chose to push her toward Hank. I would become the first love in her heart, the one who led her onto the path of devout faith.

My son was no longer with us. His heart, while he still breathed, was cruelly harvested and given to someone of influence—Michele Finnen, the wife of Scott Langley. Just because she had heart disease and was powerful, she sent people to snatch my son away. As an orphan and now a single mother, my son was all the family I had. He would curl up in my arms and whisper, "Mommy, don't be scared. I'll protect you when I grow up!" He was the center of my universe. Consumed by a seething hatred for Michele, I craved vengeance. I was determined to reclaim my son's heart myself, ensuring he would leave this world whole. To do that, I set my sights on Michele's husband, Scott. He was still enamored with his first love. But fate played a cruel joke: suddenly, out of nowhere, that very woman experienced a car accident. And the strangest part? I looked almost just like her.

I, Darcy Cowell, have been secretly married to my husband, Frank Winston, for seven years. He is the president of a company and has just hired a new assistant. The new assistant, Johanna Scott, is well-behaved and has a voluptuous figure. Scandalous rumors about her and Frank quickly spread throughout the company. Feeling uneasy, I seek Frank out for answers, only to overhear him telling his good friend over the phone. "I'm not interested in her. My wife, Darcy, will always be my only love." I am filled with warmth and relief at those words. A fire suddenly breaks out at the company banquet, and I get crushed under a falling cabinet. Yet, as my life hangs in the balance, Frank turns to run toward Johanna. When I next regain consciousness, I find that I have survived but lost my unborn child forever. This time, I truly lose all faith in Frank. Our child is gone, and I want him gone from my life as well.

"You want revenge? I can help you with that, but you have to marry me." Trapped in a nightmare marriage, Selena Brown's world shatters when she discovers her husband’s affair with her best friend for years, who’s now carrying his child. Desperate for answers, she tracks down her best friend’s alleged fiancé, only to find Henry Scott, a ruthless billionaire, who claims he’s never even met her best friend before. Driven by betrayal, Selena and Henry strike a dangerous deal: a marriage of convenience to take down their enemies. But as sparks ignite and secrets unravel, their revenge pact becomes something far more dangerous, an irresistible passion neither of them can deny. When love and vengeance collide, can they trust each other or will betrayal destroy them both? “You can have my husband, Sandra. But don’t worry, I married yours. And unlike you, I don't cheat. I upgrade.”

For five years of our marriage, Matthew Spark was my entire world. I abandoned my career, severed ties with my family, and molded myself into the perfect wife for him. I believed our love was unshakable, and that our marriage certificate was the ultimate proof of it. Until the day I saw him with my own eyes—holding another woman in his arms as he stepped into our home. “Ava, let me introduce you,” he said, his tone as casual as if he were discussing the weather. “This is Sophie Spears, and her daughter, Ella. They’ll be living here from now on.” I froze. I had seen her face before—tucked in the drawer of his desk, in his wallet, even as the wallpaper on his phone. And in that instant, I realized the cruel truth: I was the unnecessary outsider. The interloper. The greater insult came when I confronted him. He calmly produced a marriage certificate—his and Sophie’s marriage was three months before ours. That was the moment I learned my marriage had been nothing but a farce. That I wasn’t even significant enough to be a mistress. And in that moment, I laughed. Oh, Matthew. Did you forget who the largest investor in Spark Enterprise was?