Short Bed Time Stories

My husband's first love posted a video on her social media. In the video, the two of them were passing a playing card with their lips. When the card fell, their lips met in a kiss. They didn't stop—lost in the moment, they kissed passionately for an entire minute. Her caption read: [Still the same clumsy piggy! PS: Steve's skills are as good as ever!] I quietly liked the post and left a comment: [Congrats.] The next second, my husband called, yelling at me furiously, "No other woman is as dramatic as you! I was just playing a game with Lanie. Why are you acting crazy again?" It was then that I realized seven years of love meant nothing. It was time for me to leave.

At twenty-eight, I held the dubious honor of being the last unmarried socialite on New York's Upper East Side. Everyone around me was growing increasingly anxious about my single status. In my previous life, my mother arranged a matchmaking cocktail party, where I was told to choose a husband from ten handpicked elite bachelors. I bribed the event planner to place Mark West's profile at the very top—and as I had hoped, I chose him. After we married, Mark treated me with what seemed like tender affection. He even bought me an oceanfront villa in the Hamptons, making me believe I had finally found true love. But that illusion shattered the day I was nine months pregnant, just hours away from giving birth. Mark drove a scalpel straight into my abdomen—then, right in front of me, hurled our newborn onto the floor. "If you hadn't forced me into this marriage with your family's power, Sofia wouldn't have been heartbroken enough to go drinking and get drugged and assaulted. This… this is what you owe her!" He tossed the scalpel aside, then calmly let his private doctor pin down my blood-soaked body. I fought through excruciating pain for six agonizing hours, until I finally bled to death. Afterward, Mark dumped my corpse into the Hudson River. But for Sofia, he hosted a grand funeral—funded with my money, under my name—and paraded himself to the world as a grieving, devoted widower. Given a second chance at life, I refused to step foot in that cursed matchmaking event. Instead, I went straight to my mother with a demand: marry me to Robert Black—the most ruthless, cold-blooded titan of Wall Street, whose scarred face was feared by all. In the end, stripped of my financial backing, Mark's hedge fund collapsed. He became a disgraced fraudster, spat on by everyone on Wall Street.

“Don't you guys feel sorry for her?” “She's just a cheap slut that begs for me every night,” a man that looks exactly like her fiancé said with a smirk. Eleanor just found out that her fiancé was a twin and her bedmate was his twin brother. Her caring fiancé by day was different from the one filled with desires at night. ********* Eleanor dated her fiancé for four years and decided to get married to him, but she was just a pawn in his revenge games. What will she do when she finds out that the man she has been sleeping with was her fiancé’s secret twin brother, not her fiancé?

My wife, Ariel Sweeney, would always buy me a new watch every time she cheated on me. We'd been married for four years, and I'd already collected 99 watches. That also meant I'd forgiven her 99 times too. This time, she went on a business trip for three days, and returned with a Patek Philippe watch worth ten million dollars for me. I then knew that it was time we got a divorce.

I tried to hide this secret. But wanting him burned inside me like a fever I could not shake. He is my best friend's brother. The one I should never touch. The kind of guy who could break you without trying. Every girl wanted him. So did I. He was my secret. My late-night fantasy. The one I craved but never dared to want out loud. Then one night, he looked at me like he finally saw me. Touched me like I was the only girl in the world. And just like that, I stopped pretending. Now we are stuck in something messy… Lust, secrets, and stolen nights. I know I should walk away. But I cannot breathe without him. I loved him quietly for years. Now I am his secret. And maybe the next girl he would break her heart. Can I stay alive without him? These feelings would kill me alive.

On our seventh mating anniversary, my Alpha mate, Ronan Thorne, abandons me once again for his secretary, Evelyn Stone's sake. This time, I don't kick up a fuss at all. Instead, I calmly draw out a silver dagger in hopes of ending my life. The moment the tip of the dagger is pressed against my neck, I feel someone grab my wrist all of a sudden. "Why are you hurting yourself? Who broke your heart?" I looked up in a daze, only to see the 18-year-old version of Ronan. He's so anxious that his eyes have gone red. At the same time, he keeps trying to embrace me. "Tell me who that bastard is! I'll make him pay!" I don't explain anything at all. Instead, I merely utter his name softly. After that, the current Ronan personally locks me up in the dungeon. He claims that I need to reflect on myself—that I shouldn't target Evelyn out of jealousy. Just then, the younger Ronan appears again. He stares at the older and cold-looking Ronan outside the silver bars, then turns back to look at me with disbelief written all over his eyes. I just nod in response. He clenches his fists tightly. Soon, a furious roar escapes his throat. "He's not worthy of being your mate! I'll kill anyone who wants to hurt you, regardless of who they are!" As opposed to the 28-year-old Ronan, the 18-year-old version of him loves me more than anything else in the world. Naturally, he will definitely stick to the promises he has made to me.

Dominixe Cantavalle, an Alpha slayer, is torn between her loyalty to her father and her love for her Alpha mate. In a desperate bid to gain her father's favor and become the heir of the powerful House of Cantavalle, she chooses to betray and slaughter her mate's pack members, a decision that leaves her in a state of misery and despair. As if that wasn't enough, Dominixe finds herself betrothed to an abhorrent man arranged by her father and is forced to sleep with him against her will. But her fate takes a dark turn when she is poisoned by one of her own sister. In her dying moments, the only one who tends to her is a rogue Alpha who has long admired her. However, when Dominixe wakes up, she finds that she cannot remember him. She can only recall her fated mate Valerian Leveaux, whom she betrayed in the past. Determined to seek revenge against those who have wronged her and protect those who care for her, Dominixe sets out on a perilous journey, with her new allies by her side, to right the wrongs of her past and change the course of her and her Alpha mate's destiny. ︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵ Moon Goddess' Daughters series: Dameta, the Goddess of Time

Livia Lumiere Carlos is a beautiful lady. Others were always deceiving and tricking her. She had difficulty on their hands. Others used her as an errand girl - their slave - while mocking her behind her back for her brilliant mind, commitment, and innocence. But when her husband cheated on her with her best friend, she decided enough was enough. However, Livia died of a sudden heart attack with her dying wish to turn back time. "Whoever stands in my way, I will mercilessly trample them," she promised. "Livia, the slave and errand girl, is no more."

Francesca only had one thing on her mind: escaping the hell that is her husband, Alpha Stefano. But it wasn't an easy feat, and more difficult years went by until she found hope in her mate, Alpha Tristan. It had long been scarred and hidden, but Tristan somehow effortlessly opened Francesca's heart again. And even as the world turned against them, she could only be certain of one thing: their love is stronger than all the forces of the universe.

As the only daughter of a casino magnate, I have grown up surrounded by danger and betrayal. To keep me safe, my father has raised nine bodyguards from a young age. After I come of age, he asks me to choose one of them as my fiance. Everyone expects me to pick Harry Hunt, the man I have secretly loved for years. But I do not—not after what happened in my previous life. On the day of our engagement, I was kidnapped, and my hands were pierced with poison-tipped spikes. Tortured and desperate, I called Harry for help. His response still haunts me today. "Victoria, stop with these games. Your location shows you're still in the hotel suite. Trying to pull these pity stunts just to keep me to yourself? Pathetic." With another woman laughing in the background, I closed my eyes and gave up. As the iron cage sank beneath the waves and the sea filled my lungs, my life ended. Then, I open my eyes and find myself back on the day my father asked me to make a choice. This time, Harry's name is the first I cross off the list. But why is he crying and begging me to marry him at my engagement banquet with Jeffrey Reed?