Steven Grant

“We signed the divorce papers six months ago. Tonight I’m wearing the lingerie he bought me on our honeymoon…and I’m not leaving his penthouse until he remembers why he put a ring on it.” Lila Grant never begged,not when Ethan built his empire on her late-night sketches. Not when he shut her out with silence colder than the marble floors of their Manhattan tomb. Not when she scrawled her signature on the line that severed them. But six months of celibate nights and whiskey-soaked memories have carved her hollow. One look at him across a crowded gala with his new fiancée draped on his arm like a cheap trophy and something primal snaps inside her. She kisses him in front of the cameras. Claims the mouth that once whispered mine against her throat and then she issues the ultimatum that detonates their carefully buried war: Thirty nights. His Hamptons fortress. One bed. No safe words. No surrender. If either of them says the word divorce, the other walks away with everything,money, pride, the last shred of sanity. Ethan never lost until Lila walks back in wearing red silk and the scent of ruin. What begins as a vicious game of who-blinks-first spirals into something darker. Jealousy that tastes like blood on the tongue. Sex that leaves bruises shaped like vows. He wants to punish her for leaving. She wants to burn the memory of his touch out of her skin. Both get exactly what they came for,until the one thing neither planned explodes between them: She’s pregnant. And the man who swore he’d never beg is on his knees

At my own wedding, I find out the woman behind the veil isn't even the one I'm supposed to be marrying. Instead of getting mad, I give her the wedding of the century. It's all because of what happened in my past life. I'd exposed that she wasn't my bride in front of everyone and blew up the whole ceremony. That forced Jessie Clarke, who'd been at the hospital with her childhood sweetheart, Oliver Grant, to rush over reluctantly so we could still get married. Because of that, Oliver refused treatment and died on the operating table. When I heard he was gone, I told Jessie she should see him one last time, but she refused. All she said was, "Blame it on his bad luck." After we got married, we acted just as in love as before. I kept getting money from my family to save her company every time it was on the verge of collapse. But on the anniversary of Oliver's death, Jessie shoved me off the top floor of her company. I hit the ground hard enough to end up a broken, bloody mess. As I fell, I caught one last look at her face, streaked with tears. "If you hadn't forced me back to marry you, Oliver wouldn't have died! You get to keep me, but I lost him for good! Why do you get to live a happy life?" So that was it. She'd blamed me for Oliver's death from the start. She'd never loved me at all. The next time I opened my eyes, I was back at our wedding ceremony.

It was the apocalypse. A zombie apocalypse. We should've been running for our lives, but my girlfriend, Yvonne Brown, refused to. She wanted to buy as much time as she could for her incompetent childhood friend, Yves Claude, to hop into the last helicopter that would take survivors away. But the retreat was our group's only way to survive in this apocalypse. Yves was not showing up anytime soon. I had no choice but to knock her out and drag her into the chopper. And Yves, the one she could never seem to forget, died in the swarm of undead. I, however, survived thanks to what I did. Yvonne and I lived happily in a safe zone. And then that fateful day came. I was going to take over the territory and lead humanity on an attack against the zombies. The night before that decisive strike, Yvonne spiked my water with anesthetics. When I was caught helpless, she tossed me into the horde of zombies. The swarm of undead tore my flesh open, and the pain killed me. Yvonne? She stood on the wall coldly, a sneer decorating her lips. "Yves could've lived, but you took that chance away from him! You selfish monster, you killed Yves! I will make you suffer what he suffered! You'll pay for it with your life!" Death took me, but it tossed me all the way back to the day of the retreat. The day Yvonne adamantly insisted on waiting for Yves. Well, if she was so happy to live through a world like this with her friend, who am I to say no? I would grant her that wish, even if she would end up as zombie food.

My family is the oldest healing bloodline in the Frostmoon Pack, and I am the most promising talent to become the pack's Chief Healer. My destined mate, who promised to mark me on my 20th birthday, instead chose my stepsister Eliza on the very day that was meant to be mine. Then Alaric Blackwood, the legendarily powerful and cold Alpha of the Blackwood pack, openly pursued me after I was abandoned. For five years after becoming his mate, he treated me with tender care and bone-deep devotion. He told me not to work so hard as a healer and to focus on being his Luna. Until I accidentally overheard a conversation between him and his loyal Beta. "Alpha, Eliza has already become Chief Healer. How long will you continue pretending to love Amara?" "It doesn't matter since I can't be Eliza's mate anyway. Besides, as long as I'm with Amara, she won't interfere with Eliza's happiness." Every night, he prayed to the Moon Goddess, and every word was filled with longing and love for Eliza. "May the Moon Goddess bless Eliza. May she find peace in body and spirit." "May the Moon Goddess grant Eliza all she desires, and protect all that she loves." ... "Eliza, we're not destined for each other in this life. I only pray we become fated mates in the next." Only then did I realize that my mate—his body belonged to me, but his heart belonged deeply to my stepsister. I've prepared a fake identity and planned a staged death at the hands of rogue wolves. From now on, we will never meet again, in this life or any other.

I was perfect at everything. I have perfect beauty, perfect at school, etc. I can do a lot of things. Everyone envies me. And everyone adores me. But, there’s no such thing as perfect in this ugly world. Everyone has their own darkest secrets that are kept hidden from everyone else. I had mine and none of these people who envied and adored me knew how hard it is to keep them hiding in my closet. I had to be tough to survive. But, when I started getting along with the long-haired 33-year-old man, I realized how flawful I am in my perfect world. He made me realize my imperfections, that I can do sinful things, that I can also be a rebellious daughter, that I can also be an ordinary girl, that I can show off my true identity in front of him without being judged. He understands me because just like me, he’s also a broken soul. He embraced my imperfections. Little by little, my heart recognized him as a lover. I let him get into me, not just through my body, but through my heart, too. Princes do come in unexpected ways, isn't it?! But, behind actions are devious intentions. How did I fall into such a trap of destroying me and my whole clan? How did I not see the red lights? Oh wait, maybe because he's a master of deception. I thought he was the prince, the prince who's going to save me from the poisoned apple. He was the poison I should've run away from the first time he showed me the apple and said that it will grant all my wishes. I was the princess and he was the monster in disguise.

Eu morri no meu aniversário, mas os meus pais e o meu marido não perceberam. Eles estavam ocupados demais, dedicando toda a atenção para planejar a festa de aniversário da minha irmã gêmea, Esme Shaw. Enquanto ela estava cercada por pessoas ajudando-a a escolher um vestido, eu fui amarrada e jogada no porão. Com a pouca força que me restava, forcei meus dedos quebrados a digitar o código—9395. Era um sinal que meu marido, Edwin Grant, e eu tínhamos combinado. Era uma forma direta de pedir ajuda em caso de perigo. Nunca pensei que um dia realmente precisaria dele. Mas quando enviei, ele não acreditou em mim. Sua resposta foi fria: "Claudia, está fazendo um espetáculo só porque não te levei pra comprar um vestido novo?" Você ainda pode usar o vestido do ano passado. Pare de arrumar confusão. Te vejo na festa mais tarde.” O que ele não sabia era que Esme já havia destruído aquele vestido em pedaços. Ele não tinha ideia de que eu parti logo após desligar. A celebração começou e eu não estava presente. Um alvoroço tomou conta da sala quando viram o presente que eu tinha preparado para a Esme com antecedência.

"I...wish to die..." Her small voice came out in a quiver; her whole body trembled as she braved herself to look up, showing her green but dull eyes to be seen by the man stood towering her. She didn't dare to move a single finger, even breathing the same air as him suffocate her. For all the rumours she heard about him. Alpha Cillian, silently looked at her with his golden eyes. He didn't even change a slight expression on his handsome face, nor he throw a warning growl at her for had the guts to lock eyes with him. Alpha Cillian, famous for his cold and ruthless act. The Alpha of the biggest and powerful pack in the continent, Silver Moon. His hands coated in blood of criminals and innocent people. Such dangerous creature, will never be softer to anyone. Then why is it have to be different towards her even though she is his mate? Chloe, not the only living Omega in Rock Mountain Pack, but she was the one with the most miserable fate. When everything seemed to be luck and blessing for her to be saved by the Alpha and became his adopted daugther; after she lost her parents due to the rogues attack, years later, it was nothing but torture. Not a single time pass Chloe didn't resent herself for not being able to escape and flee to have a normal life just like how everyone looks happy with theirs. Just how the Moon Goddess seemed to hate her that much that She sent her a man that will only added the misery she's been going through? Or... will this Chloe chance to escape? Will he help her from her live and escape death or rather grant her wish to embrace the death sooner?

Every Christmas Eve, the heir of the Marco mafia family—Adrian Marco, must follow the family tradition: Draw a name to decide whether he’s allowed to marry me. Because I, Irene Cast, am not mafia-born. Unless he draws the slip with my name on it, he can’t take me as his wife. For four years, Adrian has drawn four times. And not once did he draw my name. I always thought he fought with his family because of me— that he was willing to risk losing his position as the Don, just to choose me. Every time he failed, he held me so tightly and whispered, “It’s okay. There’s always next year.” And I loved him so much it hurt. Hurt enough that I was willing to wait, year after year. This year, I told myself: If he still doesn’t draw my name… I’ll secretly switch the result. I sneaked to the door of Adrian’s study, and heard his younger brother ask: “Don… every year you do draw Irene's name. Why do you pretend you didn’t? Is it because you still can’t let Sera go?” But he simply said, in a flat voice, “Sera needs me for something urgent. Do what you always do: swap Irene’s name for a blank one.” He walked out without looking back. Instead of swapping, he tossed the blank slip into the trash, left the one with my name on the table, and hurried after Adrian. I went inside, picked up the blank slip from the trash, and replaced the one with my name. Watching my own name fall into the garbage. Adrian…I don’t want to wait and marry you anymore. I’ll grant you your choice.

While enrolling my son in an elite school, the administrator suddenly tells me my marriage certificate is forged. "According to our records, your marital status is listed as single." "But I've been married to my husband, Chandler Leighton, for seven years!" Behind me, other parents waiting in line burst out laughing mockingly. "Did she just say Chandler Leighton? She must be dreaming." Amid their ridicule, I leave and head straight to the city hall for a confirmation. And as a wife of seven years, my marital status in the system is stated as "Single". A cold dread washes over me as I press. "Who is Chandler Leighton's legal wife?" The clerk flatly spats out a name, "Heather Hammington." It was that name again! I rush home, ready to confront Chandler, but pause just outside the door when I hear voices inside. "It's been seven years, Mr. Leighton. Do you still have no plans to grant Mrs. Leighton a legal status?" After a lengthy pause, Chandler finally answers, "Just wait a little longer. Heather lost both her parents… I'm the only one who can help her, so she needs this title." "What if Mrs. Leighton finds out?" "Danielle loves me too much to leave, even if she finds out. Once Heather has established her foothold in the business industry, I'll make it official with Danielle and give her a true marriage certificate." He sounds so certain, unaware that I'm standing just outside the door with tears streaming down my face. "You'll be disappointed, you liar." I take out my phone and dial a number I haven't called in years. "Mom, I accept the Atwoods' marriage arrangement."

The train arrived with a screech of metal on metal, and subconsciously I boarded and found a seat and gazed out the window as if somehow, the tunnel walls rushing by was the only thing that could grant my wish. "I wish you could see me," I whispered the deep words, picturing his face as I spoke. "Like really see me. I wish you could love me just the way I love you." Closing my eyes, I began to feel the weight of the unshed tears behind my eyelids. But just before I brushed them off I murmured again. "Just once, I want to know what it would be like if you truly loved me back." With a final sigh, I wiped the tears fighting to breakfree. Little did I know, some wishes come at a terrible price. When Asher Smith's boyfriend, supermodel Xander Fauler, wakes from a car accident with amnesia, their cold relationship transforms into something passionaate and real. For six blissful months, Asher experiences the love he always craved—until Xander's memories return, along with his icy demeanor. What was once six month's of undeniable love and pleasure just as he had always wanted, slowly turned into a nightmare that he had dreaded so much for the longest time. Amidst the uncertainty of his spot in his love life, Asher began to notice some odd changes in Xander, making him question if their relationship was ever real. As he tries to get a grip of his love life he uncovers a dangerous obsession lurking in Xander's inner circle and a traumatic secret from his past, putting him no way further from his recent doubt, now Asher must decide: walk away from heartbreak or fight for a love trapped beneath scars?