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I stared down at the contract, a wave of defiance bubbling up in me. I turned back to him, meeting his gaze head-on. "I never asked for your help," I said, "I would've found a way to save my mother on my own. You may think you own me, but I'd rather die than marry you." A slow smile crept across his face, a smug, knowing look that sent a chill down my spine. He knew exactly what I was thinking, as if my resistance only entertained him. "Look at me," he commanded. I reluctantly turned back, locking eyes with him. His face had shifted, his expression darkened, and for the first time, true fury was etched in his eyes. "I’ll count to ten," he said, "If that contract isn’t signed by the time I reach ten, I’ll make the same call I made to pay those bills. Only this time, the instructions will be different. Your mother... your sister…they’ll both be gone." He took a breath, settling back as if the threat were a mere matter of routine. "So… ONE!!" I swallowed hard, my heartbeat pounding in my ears. Could he be bluffing? No, I'd seen him kill before, seen how casually he turned life and death into sports. "FOUR," he counted. My hands started to shake. What could I do? If I signed, I'd be bound to him forever, trapped as his wife. But if I didn’t... my mother and sister’s lives hung in the balance. "SEVEN." I closed my eyes, fighting the panic rising in my chest. He wouldn’t do it, I told myself. He couldn’t be that monstrous. But even as I thought it, the doubt crept in. I wasn’t sure. Then, he hit "TEN" himself

On my fifteenth birthday, I begged my mom to teach me how to make a cream cake from scratch. We only had cream at home. No flour. So we went out to buy some. When we came back, we didn't walk into a birthday surprise. We walked in on my father pressing a strange she-wolf down onto the dining table. Cream was smeared all over her bare body. That night ended with my parents signing the Mating Dissolution Agreement. From that day on, cake became my nightmare, a taboo I could never touch. The night I mated with Alpha Kaelen of the Shadow Pack, amidst the pain and pleasure of his marking bite, I whispered in his ear. "Honey, if you ever want to end our mating, just bring me a cake." He frowned, his eyes burning with possessiveness, and kissed the words away. "Don't talk nonsense, Seraphina. You are my fated mate. How could I ever let you go?" Later, on his birthday, his intern secretary Elena ordered a three-tier luxury cake. Kaelen went into a rage, throwing both the cake and the intern out the front door. Back then, I was moved, even telling him not to be so harsh on a low-ranking wolf for my sake. But six months later, Elena had been promoted to Kaelen's personal assistant. On my birthday, she walked into my laboratory, swinging her hips, holding a burnt, homemade cake. I called Kaelen, asking him to remove the provocative item. On the other end of the line,his tone was casual. "Elena put her heart into making that for you. It would be cruel to throw it away. Be a good girl, don't be so sensitive. Have the grace of a Luna." The phone slipped from my hand. It turned out my mother wasn't wrong. Cake really is best served with a side of rejection papers.

To afford train tickets home for New Year's Eve, I searched for a part-time job and stumbled into a livestream that was practically throwing money at the chat. A young woman in a silk robe rested her chin on her hand. Behind her, a villa glowed under expensive lighting that reflected off polished marble floors. "Being kept in here is suffocating," she said in a voice that mixed boredom with sweetness. "My sponsor gives me more money than I can spend. Help me out. Take some off my hands." Cash drops flashed across the screen one after another. I tapped as fast as I could, my heart hammering. A few large ones landed in my account. I was close. One more would cover both my ticket and my boyfriend's. The streamer leaned closer to the camera. "He keeps saying my tear mole looks like his girlfriend's," she said, her mouth twisting with disgust. "So unlucky. Of all things, I had to match with some broke girl." My finger slipped. I had a tear mole under my eye in the same spot. The live chat flooded with questions. [How is the sponsor's girlfriend broke?] The streamer gave a short snort and reapplied her lipstick, as if correcting a minor flaw. "He's just messing around. He tricked her into 200,000 dollars in debt. She's so stupid she works multiple jobs to help him pay it off." A chill settled in my chest. My boyfriend also owed 200,000 dollars. She continued, her tone light, "The funniest part? He slept with me for three days. When he left, I asked if he was giving her a taste of honey." She smiled cruelly. "He said all he has to do is claim he's going to work a construction site hauling rebar. The idiot will feel guilty and deliver food all night. So he won't need to please her." Another large cash drop flashed across the screen. The total reached the exact amount I needed. My phone rang. Benjamin's name lit up the display. When I answered, his voice sounded worn down, as if it had scraped against concrete. "Via, we still don't have enough for the tickets," he said. "I hauled rebar and made a little over 40 dollars. I'm heading home now."

I did three years in prison for my wife, Lilian Parson. The day I got out, she handed me an envelope for her company's grand opening. Inside was a single dollar bill. For a second, I thought it was a mistake. Then I saw her colleague, Nathan Ramsey, holding his envelope—his also contained a single dollar. Relieved, I pushed my doubts aside. I smiled, stood by Lilian's side through the entire ceremony, the picture of a proud, supportive husband. That night, scrolling through Instagram, I saw Nathan's latest post. A photo of a check. [Congratulations to Lilian Parson on the grand opening! So generous—100 million as a gift!] The comments section exploded with envy and blessings, congratulating him and "the boss" on finally becoming a couple. Lilian offered no explanation. Instead, she hurried to draw a line between us. "You just got out of prison," she said coolly. "It's not a good look to go public right now. Let's keep our marriage a secret. In front of others, just call me your boss." Then she turned around and liked Nathan's post. I wiped the tears from my eyes, picked up my phone, and dialed the number of her greatest rival. "From now on, I work for you," I said.

After I get pregnant, my husband goes jogging every night. One night, he leaves in such a hurry that he only wears his smart watch. He forgets to bring his phone with him. I accidentally see the messages he sends his female colleague. "Want to come over for a free meal? And maybe… a little of me, too?" "I'm not really hungry tonight—except for a taste of you." The chicken stew he's fed me tonight gurgles in my stomach as it turns. If I remember correctly, he's just introduced this colleague to my brother.

VANESSA: ~"You will marry him!" Dad thundered, his veins bulging and his sickly pallor only enhancing how close to death's door he was. I was more worried about his health than this insane idea he was spouting, but. "This is the 21st century! You can't force to marry anyone! That's preposterous!" I wanted to yell several more words, to impress on him how absurd his demand was, but then the heart monitor started beeping loudly. A nurse and his hairless doctor rushed in. Mum and I were pushed out gently but firmly.~ Vanessa Anders might not have a lot of love for her father, but she couldn't stand by and let his empire crumble, not when it will lead to his death. Besides, the man she was more or less being sold off to was easy on the eyes, rich and very nice! Okay, she might have a crush on the billionaire, but isn't that a good thing? Except, after marriage, the nice charming man disappears and a beast takes his place. A beast that loves to make Vanessa hurt. CALLUM: Callum Gray hates two things in life; being lied to and people who try to manipulate him. The exact two things Shawn Anders and his daughter were. What kind of desperate girl holds a man to ransom just to get him to marry her? It didn't matter. What she wanted was a marriage, right? Well, that's exactly what she would get. A marriage, not of convenience, but of hell. Callum was going to make her suffer for every single bit of her manipulation and then some. Author's Note; This book features a deceitful father, a mean and sadistic CEO and an oblivious young woman who is a pawn in her father's game and the recipient of a revenge plot.

Leyanne Cruden is a very old yet powerful witch in present day who is dissatisfied with the world as we know it. An immortal who stopped ageing in her late twenties. She has lived through so much and lost so many that it has jaded her personality and she no longer knows if she is good or bad. A vision leads her on a purpose to find an awakening hunter who threatens the existence of all supernatural beings. Like her he's young, immortal and everything that can destroy her. His creation was purely for the purpose of wiping the earth free of supernaturals. To prevent this tragedy she must assemble a coven of mixed creatures and figure out how to avert the destruction of magic before it's too late. They do say that sometimes the one thing which is the worst for you is the one thing you want the most - Dante Torres, a hunter with the ability to end her life. She will need to let people in if she has a hope of succeeding, as even a witch as powerful as her can not do it alone. With a collection of supernatural characters, love and heartbreak.

“Why did you buy me, especially for such a huge amount? There is no way you could possibly want me when I am carrying the child of another man. Wait…. You could not possibly want me because…” the last words remained stuck in Kyra’s throat. She swallowed thickly and dread curled in the pit of her stomach as she stared at the handsome face of a rumored ruthless Alpha Anton. *** It is one thing to find your mate, it is another for your mate to want you back. All of Kyra’s life, she has been the rejected one and thought that things would be different when she finally finds her mate. Except that the moon goddess is one who likes to play games, Kyra gets mated to the enemy of her pack, Tristan. Kyra is shocked when her mate accepts her despite knowing she is the enemy's daughter, so she starts going out with him secretly, but that won’t last for long because she falls pregnant, and her father finds out about her escapades with Tristan. Tristan rejects her in the presence of her father and denies their child, leaving Kyra broken-hearted. He was only with her to destroy her father because of the feud between both packs. In anger, her father who has never cared for her decides to auction her off to the highest bidder. Broken, pregnant and in shame, Kyra is sold off to Alpha Anton. Kyra has never left home all her life and the first time she does, it is with a stranger who bought her. Kyra looks on her future with dread, not knowing what it holds for a pregnant and rejected woman like her.

After my son’s surgery, I stayed overnight at the hospital. While keeping watch, I scrolled through my phone and came across a post. [What’s the worst thing you’ve ever done?] An anonymous user replied. [I used the senior who sponsored me as a stepping stone.] [My sponsor was rich and clueless. He paid for my entire college education, and after I graduated, I slept with his wife. She even had my child.] [The best part is that he treats my son like his own. He works himself to exhaustion just to set that kid up for life.] [By the way, his family just received three million from the relocation compensation. My lover will be here soon. She’ll pretend we need it for a school district apartment and trick him into giving it to us.] [Once the cash is in hand and the villa is bought, I’ll have my son acknowledge me as his real father and then throw my sponsor out of the house.] A blurry photo of a little boy was attached. My heart skipped a beat. On his wrist was the safety charm I had given my son. Just then, my wife pushed open the hospital room door. “Honey, Xeno is starting elementary school soon. Let’s take your mom’s compensation money from the relocation and use it to buy a place in a good school district.”

We were on our way to celebrate our son’s birthday when we got into a car crash. When I woke up, I looked at my family gathered around my hospital bed and cracked a joke: “Sorry, but who are you guys?” I held back a smile, curious to see how they'd humor their "amnesiac" patient. Would my mother grab my hand in a panic? Would my husband look at me with worry? Would my son rush over, crying and calling me Mom? What I didn't expect was for them to freeze for a moment—and then, almost in unison, let out sighs of relief. My mother was the first to speak, her tone unmistakably lighter, as if a huge weight had been lifted. "If you don’t remember, it’s probably for the best. This is Lindsay—your sister, she’s my daughter. You were adopted." My husband then pointed at me and said to our son, "You should call her Aunt Wendy." Before the shock could even sink in, I watched the child I'd fought so hard to protect turn and throw himself into the arms of Lindsay. "Mom! I played outside all day. I missed you so much!" So that was the truth. My amnesia was exactly what they'd been hoping for. In that case, I didn't need this made-up life anymore.