Sharp Ps-930

I was chosen to be the fiancée of Lorenzo, the Mafia’s heir. But at a family gala, Lorenzo was openly pursued by Chiara, the daughter of an arms dealer. Chiara wasn’t like the other rule-abiding debutantes. She tore through the streets in a modified sports car, used a military-grade combat knife to cut her cigars, and drank the harshest whiskey neat. There was an untamed wildness about her, a fire Lorenzo couldn't look away from. He complained to the family elders, "How can a woman like that possibly be our Madre and run this entire family?" His words dripped with disdain for her recklessness, yet his eyes were glued to her, tracking her every move as she raised her glass. Then, on Lorenzo’s birthday, he announced his intention to make Chiara his mistress. Chiara refused. "The women of my family are wives, never mistresses. And my husband's heart must belong only to me." Lorenzo came to me, his voice hesitant. "Alessia, it's just a title. I need you to give it to Chiara. Please? She doesn't understand our family's traditions, and she's making a scene about marrying me. We just need to pacify her for now. Even if she marries me, you will still be the one to manage the family's affairs." As I stood trying on my wedding gown, a sharp crystal bead on the bodice pierced my finger. A single drop of blood bloomed against the pure white satin. The dress was ruined, but the wedding would go on. If I couldn't be the wife of the heir, I would become the woman of the Don.

The day we were meant to be mated, my Alpha, Ford, was ambushed. Silver bullets shredded his car, sending it plunging off a bridge and into the river below. He was pronounced dead. Drowned. I was left pregnant with his heir, shattered by the raw agony of our severed mate bond. Then Ford's twin, Aiden, returned from abroad with his mate, Kyra. His identical face and a scent so similar to my mate's nearly drove me mad. A desperate part of me swore Ford was still alive. I told myself it was just grief. A widow's delusion. Until I overheard a hushed conversation and the horrifying truth slammed into me: the man pretending to be Aiden was Ford. He had faked his death. He'd let his own brother die in his place, all for Kyra—the other woman carrying his child. The grief that had crippled me instantly morphed into a cold, sharp rage. Ford didn't just break our bond; he shattered it. And I would make him pay. I wiped my tears and sent a single message to my brother, Billy, the Alpha of the Winterstone Pack. "Brother, I need a plane crash. He loves faking his death? Fine. Let him feel what it's like to truly lose a mate." Only when the news of my "death" spread did Ford reclaim his name. He knelt for seven days and nights in the ashes of the home we once shared, consumed by a grief of his own making.

The Bloodfang Pack’s Alpha has declared a grand warrior match. A test of strength, cunning, and dominance. The werewolf who emerges victorious will not only earn the title of champion but will also claim his most beautiful daughter as a mate. But everyone knows this is just a formality. No matter who wins, I should be the one to marry Harken Shadowfang. He and I grew up together, our wolves intertwined by years of shared hunts and whispered promises beneath the full moon. He has always been my destined mate—or so I thought. The match begins, and Harken deliberately loses. I watch as he kneels in the dirt, breathing heavily, his sharp golden eyes flicking toward me with something cruel, something mocking. A chill runs down my spine. Why? Why would he do this? The victor stands tall, his fur still bristling from the heat of battle. Alaric Jaggedmane. A warrior through and through, his aura is heavy with the weight of a true Alpha—something Harken never had. Without hesitation, I step forward, lifting the warrior’s wreath. "Congratulations," I say, my voice steady. "You're now my husband." A furious snarl rips through the air. Harken storms toward me like a rabid beast, his fangs bared, his hands trembling as he snatches the wreath from my grasp. "Why didn't you pick me?" he demands, his voice bordering on madness. I meet his gaze without fear. Because in my past life, I did. I chose him. I thought he loved me. I thought we would be happy. But I was a fool. After my father’s death, Harken locked me away, keeping me weak with silver-laced drugs while he took his true mate, Ravyn Evermoon, to public events at his side. I was nothing but a tool. A stepping stone for his ambitions. A title to secure his rule. It was only then that I learned of his betrayal— of the three children he had already fathered with her. And so now, with this second chance granted to me by the Moon Goddess herself, I do not waver. I will not be Harken’s pawn again.

Blurb She loved him fiercely, masking her wealth to prove her devotion, willing to sacrifice anything to make him happy. But her loyalty was met with coldness and a stack of divorce papers tossed her way. Heartbroken and betrayed, she walked away, vowing to let him believe she was defeated. Yet, when he comes crawling back, realizing he’d thrown away his chance, she’s ready. This time, he’ll learn just how cruelly her heart can play, how sharp her silence can sting, and how merciless love can be when betrayed. She’ll make him pay—for every moment she wasted loving him.

I married Rafe Maretti—the man who owned the Maretti Casino empire. Sophisticated, ruthless, but sinfully charming. By year three of our marriage, I introduced my little sister to his nephew, Adam Moretti—twenty-five, all sharp smiles and sharper ambition. He ran the dirtier side of the family’s business—arms, drugs, the kind of trade that dripped blood and money in equal parts. I married the powerful, irresistible uncle. She married the young, dangerous nephew. It was supposed to be our fairytale. Then one day, I got kidnapped in Rafe’s casino. Snatched by a rival mafia family desperate to force Rafe to sign over one of his biggest, most profitable casinos. Except Rafe didn’t answer the phone or even notice I was gone. The kidnappers grew impatient. First, it was slaps. Then punches. Then they shattered my leg and buried a knife in my stomach. Still no word from my husband. Until finally, after what felt like a hundred unanswered calls, a single message came through. "I’m with Bianca. She’s having a stomach. Stop calling." Once the kidnappers realized I had no value, they dumped me in a rotting warehouse like discarded luggage. It was Isla, my sister, who found me. She got me out. And then the brakes failed. The car spun out. Isla went unconscious beside me. I tried calling Adam. Isla’s husband. But as soon the call went through, all I could hear was. “Leave me along. Isla, I am in the middle of something here.” When I clearly heard a woman’s voice in the back. If not for a passing stranger, Isla and me wouldn’t have made it to the hospital, let along have survived. So when I opened my eyes again, the first thing I thought was: I’m divorcing that sorry bastard. The Maretti can go to hell.

Her pulchritudinous black pools as big as saucers were shooting daggers on him. A streak of rage, might and valor whooshes from them that flame sharp and fierce like the orbs of a tigress before it hunts its prey making him almost wet his pants. The reprobate shivers in terror by the cogency of force whizzed from her aura yet tries to conceal it using his words. "My beauty...." She is just a woman....what can a puny female do to a minacious monster like him? He thought but that was the biggest mistake the wretch has ever made. The sound of his annoying words into her ears caused a fathomless fury in the queen's existance. "You cannot do anything to my kingdom, Otaku. Your end is destined in my hands." She yelled with power and pride whirling her head towards the profligate as her long hair swayed in the air with vigor like a Goddess of victory. Amara turned around hurling in air. Raising it up in a duress she flung the sword, right into his kernel ripping the flush away off the libertine's chest. Otaku shuddered under her cold gaze turning to a ball of flesh and gazed at the dominion queen in helplessness. But the next thing that happened between them had shaken up the entire humanity. The bloodied sword dropped from the queen's hand draining the life out of her face as she succumbed to floor on her knees beside the body of Otaku. "Otaku....you are....you are...." But it was too late for the realization. Note: This book has two parts in it. Enjoy

Diki Reandi is a member of the Indonesian Air Force International, has a cold demeanor and is talkative. He is 28 years old and at this time, he is involved in solving problems in the past which all started from the disappointment experienced by a man named Kenzo Albert. In the middle of a wedding with his wife. He had a deep loss. The woman who had only been his wife for 1 minute died in front of him. His family and friends died where what was supposed to be happy news turned into sad news. "Nokkkk!" Kenzo shouted when he saw his wife's incomplete body in front of him. In the luxury mension with a classic style, a beautiful woman is seen sitting on a chair equipped with a hand and an arm. "You're mean!" shouted Dissa leaking Kenzo Albert's handsome face. "I don't care, how you judge myself, the most important thing is that you are born again. I have the right to have you. I will avenge everything they did to us first. Wait for my play!" said Kenzo by leaking sharp like an eagle in front of Dissa Richard. "Stop! Don't try my sister or I will break your hands," threatened Diki Reandi running towards them. Will Diki save Dissa from Kenzo's clutches? or Dissa must choose Kenzo to save innocent people?

My father is the First Warrior of the Moonflash pack. He often takes me to all kinds of banquets, and I always look forward to them. Today, he brings me to a banquet hosted by Judy. I take a bite of raw meat on my plate and immediately spit it out. I once ate raw meat when I was younger, and my stomach hurt for several days. I nearly died. The healer later told me that I'm allergic to the protein in raw meat, and that experience left a lasting impression on me. Judy looks hurt when she sees my reaction. "I went to the forest myself to catch that reindeer," she says. "I killed it just this morning. I didn't cook it so that I wouldn't ruin its freshness. I didn't expect Ray would turn her nose up at it." Dad is angry about how rude I am, so he chases me out of the banquet and locks me up in a cramped lounge. The lounge is hot and stuffy, and I soon start finding it hard to breathe. A sharp pain twists in my stomach like a knife. I want to find Dad, but no matter how much I bang on the door, he refuses to open it. Through the window, I can see Dad and Judy standing in the center of the hall. They're conversing happily, but no one even looks in my direction. I'm suffocating, so I lie on the floor. I want to shout for Dad, but I can't make a sound no matter how hard I try. Then, I realize that I'm standing up and can walk through the door. But why is my body still lying on the floor? That's when it hits me. I'm dead.

I had cancer. And Carl—my boyfriend of seven years—ditched me at the hospital to play fake boyfriend for his so-called best friend, just so she could dodge her parents' marriage pressure. When the results came in, I broke down. Clutching the report, I sobbed as I called him. "Carl, I... I..." My voice cracked. I didn't even know how to say it. I thought he'd comfort me. Instead, his voice came sharp through the phone. "Can you not? Mia's just a friend. What's so wrong about me helping her?—do you have to be so dramatic? I already promised to marry you this month. What more do you want?"

I'm undressed and bound to a testing table when my family comes to pick me up. A thick, sharp needle pierces into my neck. A drug is administered into my blood, and the pain almost makes me lose consciousness. Behind me, I can feel a man's cold hands stroking my skin amorously. Before me, several people are staring at me. They point at me and treat me like an educational instrument. I tremble in fear and curl up on the testing table in pain. Three years ago, my brother sent me to Mykorra's war zone to stand up for Yvette Sanders. Those were the three most insulting and torturous years of my life. They burned away my hope for kinship but not my desire for survival. As the hands roam lower on my body, I bite my lip so hard that I almost draw blood. As the hands start to go overboard, someone knocks on the door. "Wendy Sanders, your brother is here for you."