Smug Alert

She stole my wedding. I stole her future. On the morning of my wedding, I caught my fiancé Kellan tangled in the sheets with my stepsister. The betrayal should have shattered me. Instead, it lit a fire in my veins. So I did what any woman scorned would do. I pointed to the most dangerous man in the room—Drexon Moreaux, Kellan’s ruthless billionaire uncle—and declared, “Him. I’ll marry him instead.” Drexon could have laughed in my face. The Moreaux empire’s heir apparent, a man forged in boardroom battles and whispered about in elite circles, had no reason to entertain my reckless demand. But he said, “I do.” Now, my stepsister’s smug smile is crumbling. My ex-fiancé is forced to call me Auntie. And Drexon? He watches me with dark, calculating eyes, as if I’m a puzzle he’s determined to solve. This marriage was supposed to be my revenge. But with every lingering touch and midnight confession, Drexon is turning it into something far more dangerous—something that feels like love. Too bad the Moreaux family doesn’t believe in happy endings…

He abruptly snatches me, closing the distance between us, putting his hand on the back of my head. All the hair on my body rises on alert; one wrong move I might shapeshift in here. His masculine scent infiltrated me with so much finesse. Damn, he smells divine. "What the hell--" "Shut your mouth; those thugs are after me; I need your help." His baritone tone is manly, very manly which catches me off guard a little. No one can lay a finger on me; he is the first man ever to touch me. I'm with a stranger in a strange position. How annoying can this night be? "Alright, Mister, I will give you three seconds to let me go, or else you might lose your hands." My tone is cold and dangerous. I’m hoping he heeds my warning. The tall man keeps leaning forward to me, putting our bodies in an intimate, awkward setting. "One, Two, Thre--" He steers his legs forward. My heart was beating a mile per second. I can't believe he is doing this! Feeling his warm palms cupping my face, the next thing I know, he is kissing me. His lips taste like strawberries. I got an entry pass into heaven!

Valentine's Day. I was stuck on ER duty at Brighton City Hospital. Theodore Madoff, who was supposed to be working late, strolled in carrying his student—Cecilia Kuntzer. She had red marks everywhere and that smug little smirk. "Relax, Mrs. Madoff. Just stomach pain. Lucky me, Prof. Madoff rushed me here." Theo pushed me to treat her. Turns out? She was pregnant. From rough intercourse. And the dad? Theo. My husband. The same guy who'd sworn off kids with me for ten years. Felt like a punch to the gut. But I still saved her baby. Next day, she uploaded a video—ID in hand, cheesy PowerPoint, accusing me of malpractice. Claimed I killed her kid. Then Theo asked for a divorce. Priscilla—his mom—stormed the hospital, shrieking about her dead grandbaby. She brought a mob. All these "righteous" strangers who stabbed me to death. Right there in the ER. I died with my eyes wide open. Then—bam—I woke up. Valentine's Day. Again.

“MATE!” “NO!” “I didn’t ask!” “Still No, my mate killed me long ago.” Silence… “You killed your mate?” “No!” “Aw! I got a broken doll! “ The smug bastard grinned. -- Mallory´s life didn’t go as planned, even after she believed her true fairytale had started. Betrayed, beaten, and broken beyond repair, she welcomed death when it finally came. The moon goddess granted her a new life, a choice. She chose to remember. Haunted by her past and trauma, she devoted her life to *unalive* the worse criminals, humans, and shifters. Working for the council, she managed to keep running from her nightmares. Suffocating the pain and panic attacks by escaping into subspace, guided by Mr. Bear’s firm hand. Love is not in Mallory´s world; she doesn’t want it. Don’t deserve it, and the mere thought scare her to the core. Why would two mated males have such care for her? Why would another claim her as his? She doesn’t recognize them as mates—any of them. But that doesn’t seem to scare them away. Reverse harem, BDSM, revenge, trauma, triggers! Torture, human trafficking +++ Not a beautiful romance but a dark romance with lingering trauma.

"You said nothing would give you pleasure more than seeing me in pain, huh?" He said as he stalked me like his prey until I was trapped between his body and the wall. "Absolutely. " I said, firing back. "Then sex works. It causes pain..but more pleasure than pain, and as you have noticed, I'm great at pleasing people." He had that smug smile on his face, and while I hated him at this exact moment, my body was about to betray me rather too quickly. Karrion Xavier Black is the CEO of Black Industries and at night, the head of the biggest Italian mob in the world. He's arrogant, rude, a terribly annoying playboy, and yet filthy rich. Very few people get to see another side of him and at that, for a moment at times. Sophia Kane is an art consultant for the 1% of the 1% at day, but at night, she's the best assasin/spy for the organization. What happens when the next name that comes across her desk is his? She's out for revenge, and she's going to get it no matter what. Follow us on this journey as we see the hate moments, the love moments, the love-hate moments.

"It started as a prank. So...how did I end up on my knees for my neighbor in his office?" Zoe Justice (20) is finally free—no dorm rules, no nosy RAs, no lukewarm cafeteria mac and cheese. With her grandparents’ inheritance and a playlist full of bangers, she’s ready to celebrate her first night as a bona fide homeowner. New digs, new vibes, and definitely a party worthy of the milestone. She expected a few noise complaints and maybe a fussy neighbor or two. But she didn’t expect the cops to roll up before 9 p.m. and shut down the whole thing like it was some kind of crime scene. Apparently, someone across the street didn’t appreciate her welcome-home energy. And when Zoe spotted him—the smug, too-serious man on the porch, standing there like he owned the cul-de-sac—she knew exactly where the betrayal came from. So naturally, she let her middle fingers and death glare do the talking. Veterinarian or not, Mr. Peace-and-Quiet was officially on her list. And she? She wasn’t going down without a little payback. But what happens when the prank war turns into a love affair neither of them saw coming?

On the night I discovered my husband, Charles Lockheart's affair with the secretary, Whitney Keaton, both of them ended up dying in a fire. I was left with a pair of twins. Despite my family's objections, I decided to adopt the twins. For the next 18 years, I put in all of my resources, blood, sweat, and tears to raise them. Finally, they are accepted into Hallwood College, a globally prestigious college. But on the day the twins get into Hallwood College, Charles and Whitney, who are supposedly dead, make a shocking appearance before us. Whitney links arms with Charles, a wide smile on her face. "As expected of our biological sons! They really are amazing for getting accepted into Hallwood College! It's all thanks to you raising our sons that we got to spend so many years in our honeymoon phase!" Charles wears a victorious and smug look. He doesn't feel guilty in the slightest for faking his death. "Let's get a divorce, Brittany. Now is the best time for the twins to be reunited with Whitney and me." Everyone turns to look at me, waiting for me to have an emotional breakdown. But I remain cool and composed as I reply icily, "What a coincidence. I feel the same way."

"Your highness, this is my daughter, and I offer you my loyalty." At a fancy party, I hid in a corner and watched my father, an alpha, bend over to speak to the prince on the throne, while my sister, Bernice, wore a tight, glamorous dress, sit at the prince's feet and show him a charming and smug smile. It was a reception for the Prince and for my sister to be his mate. "My girl, I got you." My cousin's disgusting voice sounded. A chill ran down my back. "You can't get it off," he said, reaching for me again. No... At the same time, there was a low cry from the banquet center. Bernice looked pale, and the prince frowned at the crowd before him. He had a Lycan oppressive aura that made everyone afraid to breathe. "Not her," said the prince, refusing even to look at Bernice. How did this happen? Isn't the Prince's mate Bernice? I hid in the corner. I wasn't in the mood to see what was going on at the party. I just wanted to get rid of the jerk in front of me. But why did the Prince look at me hiding in the corner? Oh, Moon goddess, I can't read his eyes.

My mom was a brilliant programmer. She created an app called "Shake for Allowance." After my brother and I downloaded it, she told us, "From now on, this is how you'll get your living expenses. On the first of every month, just shake your phone. Whatever number you get is the amount you'll receive. "The range is from zero to ten thousand dollars." At first, I was excited. Every month, I shook my phone with anticipation. However, every time, the result was the same: 0 dollars. My brother, meanwhile, always landed the highest amount. "Wow, sis, your luck really sucks," he said. Even when he showed me the transfer record for ten thousand dollars, there was a smug smile on his face. When I confronted Mom, she brushed it off, saying my luck was bad and that no one else was to blame. With no other choice, I worked three part-time jobs just to support myself while studying. On the night before my final exams, I collapsed from exhaustion and died. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the very day my mom created the "Shake for Allowance" app.

Lain Navier Edevane, an assassin haunted by his past, is on a dangerous mission to avenge the brutal murder of his family. Assigned by the dark tide, an organization that controls assassins worldwide, he has no choice but to carry out their evil commands. Galen, Lain's superior, hands him a picture of a girl, instructing him to eliminate target 0351. Lain, with a smug expression, asks when she should be killed. His superior warns him not to underestimate her, as she is no ordinary girl. Lain has one hour to complete the mission, knowing that failure is not an option, as it would cost him his life. Galen handed Lain a picture of a girl. Lain frowned, disliking dirting hands. His superior ordered him to eliminate target 0351, warning that she was not an ordinary girl. Lain asked when she should be killed, and was given an hour. Failure meant death. Lain recognized the supernatural nature of his target, but his tracking abilities made finding her easy. In the club, he spotted the only redhead. In the dim light, Lain drew his dagger and approached the drunk girl with precision. As he was about to stab her, their eyes met and something awakened within him. “MATE!”