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Within the circle, everyone knew I had been Leo’s most devoted, submissive admirer. For thirteen years, I chased him relentlessly, transforming myself from an uneducated, middle-school-dropout, illegitimate child of a wealthy family into an Ivy League economics master’s graduate. Only then did his mother finally acknowledge me, and I became Mrs. Smith. However, after the wedding, I no longer meddled in Leo’s company, cooked, or served him. While he stayed up late planning strategies for his first love, I traveled the world with friends. He would accompany her to Paris fashion shows, and I celebrated my cat’s birthday at home. I understood that a commercial marriage could never produce love. Everything I had poured my heart into was just my own foolish obsession. In my past life, I handled his company’s internal conflicts for him. Yet, he frowned, scolding, “You’re reaching too far.” I cooked soups for his stomach ailments, only to see him hand them off to his overworked first love, brushing it off, “She works harder than I do.” Even on the day I had a car accident, he lit fireworks across the city just to see her smile. I begged him, but he looked down at me from above. “Nicole, what we have is only a transaction.” Then, I opened my eyes and found myself back at our engagement banquet, watching him leave midway to comfort his heartbroken first love. This time, I did not chase after him. Instead, I picked up the microphone and said before all the guests. “Sorry, everyone. My engagement with Leo is canceled.”

"But why me?" I asked the question that was bothering me. "If you hate me so much, why did you decide to marry me? Why didn't you just pick anyone else? Maybe Chiara, or some random lady in Trinigad, why does it have to be me?" I wasn't staring, but I knew he probably looked at me like I was naive or stupid. He clapped his hand, quite loudly, staggering me, "I never said I hated you," he declared, taking me off guard. I looked at him. His hazel eyes pierced at me with an intensity unmatched, making my stomach clench. "You are merely a pawn in my grand plan, a stepping stone. I do not hate you, but I do not need to love you either, I just need to make the most of you." Annalisa, the princess of Trinigad, was born in a world where Omega's were highly revered, and her father — Alpha king of the kingdom of Trinigad, showered her with immense love and gifts as a result. She was spoiled, ruthless. No one had ever refused her anything until she crossed paths with Alpha Alexander. Love at first sight. Alpha Alexander, a man of mystery whose being was an orchestrated falsehood, was the Alpha of the white pack. A pack concentrated in the kingdom of Trinigad. After receiving a marriage proposal from Annalisa, he accepted without hesitation. Albeit, making it clear to her that he only needed her for her womb and he didn't plan on loving her since his heart already belonged to another. As Annalisa and Alexander begin a relationship based on hate, hormones come into play, mate bonds are discovered, secrets are unraveled, one that could potentially orchestrate the downfall of the werewolf species, hanging in the balance of an ultimatum.

As I walked through the dimly lit hallway, my heart was still racing, my breath uneven from the whirlwind of emotions that had consumed me in the last few hours. Then, my eyes flickered up, catching sight of the metal plaque bolted to the doorpost "Wing 1." A cold chill ran down my spine. My body went rigid as Otto’s letter flashed vividly in my mind, the words echoing as if he said it directly to my face "Room 316. Wing 2." No. No. No. No. Oh, God. A sickening wave of realization crashed over me, leaving me breathless. The man in the grey suit… He had smiled, nodded, and gestured me down this hallway. So confident. So sure. And like a fool, I had followed. I had made a mistake. A colossal, irreversible mistake. My stomach twisted violently as the truth settled in, thick and suffocating. I had entered the wrong wing. The wrong room. The wrong bed. I had given myself to a stranger. My heartbeat pounded in my ears, drowning out everything else. The world tilted, my vision blurred. What had I done? How far is too far? In this encapsulating masterpiesce, Sucre is down for whatever gets him closer to taking revenge on Otto - his twin brother's killer. But, would he really do all that is necessary? Would he chose his ambition over that of Luca the cartel’s underboss and his lover? Can he stop the knife and gun violence on campus and win the five million dollars prize money? Dive into a story of love, betrayal, romance and suspense. The Cartel’s Forbidden Love is a gripping and intriguing read that will keep you on the edge of your seat until the very last page.

He smirked down at me, clearly enjoying my tears. “Look at you. Where's that cocky, arrogant little brat that runs his mouth without pausing to think for a moment? You look better this way… humbled and willing. Are you sure you want to sign the agreement?” I nodded quickly, too eager and too desperate. “Yes! Yes, please! I'll sign it!” “Keep in mind, if you sign it, there's no going back.” He said, “Everything about you will belong to me… your hole, you cock, your mouth… everything! I get to own it all. And I'll treat you however I deem fit. Mean. Dirty. Rough. You take it all. And you dare not utter a single word of complain. Understood?” My stomach churned in utter disgust by the inhumane words that came out of his cock sucking mouth. But I didn't really have a choice here. He saw to it. I'm trapped. I pressed my eyes shut, voice weak, “Yes.” “Yes, what?” “Yes, I understand.” “Good.” He said, “Now, get up.” … How the hell was Tate Parker supposed to know that a moment of uncontrolled anger and pride would cost him his perfect life and whole freedom? He should have listened to the warnings… but he was too headstrong to. He should have seen the deadly signs… but he was too pompous to. And as consequence of his actions, he's entrapped and got nowhere else to go. Julian Belmont. That's his name. Tate believes he's a vile, twisted, cruel and psychotic devil hiding in a human facade. And that's exactly what he is. He's got Tate right where he wants him. And Tate can't escape him. He knows better than to try.

Mmm, fuck… That was the sound I heard one night when my mom’s new boyfriend was fucking her senseless through the thin walls of our house. Just two months after my dad left, Marcus moved in — tall, ripped, and dripping with raw, cocky confidence. From the very first day, when I opened the door in my tight tank top and caught him staring hungrily at my full, heavy tits and pointy nipples, I knew he was trouble. But nothing prepared me for the nights. Night after night, their room becomes a den of pure filth. The bed slams against the wall like a drum. Wet, sloppy sounds fill the air as he pounds into her — skin slapping loudly, her desperate moans turning into broken screams of “Yes, Daddy! Harder… give me that big cock!” while he growls back, “You love taking this dick, don’t you, you dirty little slut?” I lie in my bed just down the hall, panties soaked, thighs clenched, hating how much it turns me on. I try to resist. I really do. But soon my hand is sliding down my stomach, fingers circling my swollen clit as I picture myself in her place. I imagine Marcus’s strong hands gripping my hips, his thick, throbbing cock stretching me wide open, fucking me deeper than my mom could ever handle. I ride my vibrator furiously to the rhythm of their fucking, biting my pillow so they won’t hear me cum… but I always do. How long before I stop just listening… and let my mother’s boyfriend fuck me instead?

I could hear everything, even with my poor vision. I could hear their horrified gasps and the curses they rained on me. ‘She’s a murderer!’ ‘A pack slut and now a murderer! She needs to leave! We can’t live in fear in our own pack!’ Their curses overshadowed my pleas. This isn’t me—I don’t kill. I would never kill one of my own. I staggered toward where Killain stood—he was shocked. He agreed with them. “Please help me, Killain,” I begged, but he only stared. “You have brought shame to this pack, Samantha,” Killain began. “Tonight was an amazing day—a celebration for the Blood Rose Pack. You give me no choice…” “No, no, please don’t do this to me again. I’m hurt, I’m hurt…please help—” “I, Killain Black, Alpha of the Blood Rose Pack, banish you, Samantha Forbes, from the Blood Rose Pack. You have done nothing but bring shame and disgrace to this pack, and from now on, you will not be associated with Blood Rose.” The pain wasn’t torture—my mate rejecting and banishing me on the same night was torture. I fell to the ground and clutched his robe. “Please, don’t chase me away.” The guards dragged me out of the crowd and deeper into the woods. “This is where you belong! Disgrace!” They dropped me roughly and left. I staggered and tried to get up with the little strength I had left. My eyes landed on the red stain flooding the front of my dress. No, please. My stomach twisted, and I screamed in pain. My babies—not my babies, please. I can’t lose them—they’re the only thing I have left. I need to live. I can’t die—after everything.

At 3:00 p.m., Rose Jenkins, the new hire who had barely been here a few days, suddenly tagged me in the company group chat with a few hundred people in it. [Hi, can you stop hammering your keyboard? The noise is making my stomach hurt! The baby I'm carrying is sleeping. If you shake it into a concussion, I swear I'll make your whole family pay for it!] I rushed to explain. I was racing to finish a proposal that was due soon, and I was using a silent keyboard. But she wouldn't believe me, no matter what I said. I kept my patience and explained it over and over. To avoid any more trouble, I even asked if I could move out to the hallway to work. What I didn't expect was that a week later, she would storm into the break room with a kettle of freshly boiled water and dump it straight over my head. I collapsed in a pool of scalding water, my skin blistering and tearing open. She kept screaming as if she had lost her mind and smashed my head with her high heels, over and over. "It's all your fault! I lost the baby! Your keyboard noise shook my son to death!!" My vision blurred. By the time everything went black, I still couldn't understand how a silent keyboard could possibly kill someone. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day she first went off on me in the group chat. This time, faced with the same insults, I didn't back down. I went straight into the chat and fired back. [Stop pretending you're pregnant. You've got more going on down there than your dad does!]

As I approached Alpha Blake, he turned to face me with a solemn expression. His eyes, which used to be filled with love and adoration for me, were now cold and distant. I felt a pang of worry in my chest, but I pushed it aside, thinking it was just nerves. "Alpha Blake," I said softly, smiling up at him. "Hello, Sophia," he replied curtly. I frowned slightly, wondering what was wrong. But before I could ask, Alpha Blake turned to the crowd of werewolves gathered around us. "Thank you all for coming here today to witness the engagement ceremony of Sophia and myself," he said, his voice booming across the clearing. There were cheers and applause from the crowd, but I couldn't concentrate on anything except Alpha Blake's strange behavior. Something was off, and I couldn't quite put my finger on it. "However," Alpha Blake continued, his tone serious now. "I have come to a difficult decision. As the Alpha of the Night Walker pack, it is my duty to ensure the survival and prosperity of our kind. And with that in mind, I have decided to break off my engagement to Sophia." My heart dropped to my stomach, and I felt tears prickling at the corners of my eyes. This can't be happening. Alpha Blake couldn't possibly be breaking up with me. We were meant to be together forever. "I have instead chosen Leah, Sophia's stepsister, as my mate," Alpha Blake announced. Sophia is heartbroken at that moment that Alpha Blake, chooses her stepsister over her. Devastated, Sophia decides to start a new life in a different country, and that is where her worst nightmare started from because she get a job in her pack's biggest enemy company, Alpha Derick Mondragon. She was mistreated to the last drop...

Kyra Hopkins doesn’t believe in marriage and long term relationships. She co-manages her dream job with her two best friends Lily and Bipasha. With the two worried about her no-dating state, they hit a club with plans to GET KYRA LAID. In a White tiny dress they leave her in a bar nurturing a glass of water and pondering what exactly her newest client’s birthday party theme should be. Horses or cars. That’s what she voices out to the sinfully hot man who took the seat beside hers. And he’s got Kyra’s feet feeling like they were lit on fire. Worst of all, she got what it meant to have butterflies flutter in your stomach walls. Best of all, the man knows what she wants and he wants it too and more. Kyra got in for the ride of her life, planned for a weekend because remember? Kyra doesn’t do long term. But then, neither is Nicholai Damien Ivanov or Sin as he’s more popularly known as into long term relationships. One night stands or at a stretch a weekend fling. Why does the angel in white getting stuck in his head and refusing to leave? Why couldn’t his PI track her from the little information she dropped about herself. The questions haunted his nights and refused to leave until he caught sight of his Angel in a black dress on another man’s arm, then his sister hugged her referring to her as Kyra while his Angel introduced herself to him as April. Sin got his answer and meant to show her how much they weren’t over yet. In fact they hadn’t even begun. It was just the beginning of Nicholai Ivanov’s obsession with his one-night stand.

When I was seven, my constant vomiting got so bad that my mother took me to court and accused me of being born dangerous. If the charge stuck, I would be stripped of my family ties and sent straight to prison. Everyone said my mother was overreacting. "He's just a kid. Kids get sick. As his mother, you should be more understanding." But the moment the evidence was shown, the room went dead quiet. My mother had drunk herself into a stomach bleed just to land a contract, and the second she got home, I threw up all over it. The deal was voided, and she lost her job on the spot. On my sister, Ophelia Sowle's, birthday, I threw up all over her cake right in front of all her classmates. After that, she was shunned by everyone at school. She spiraled into depression and even slashed her wrists. It didn't matter where I was, at the dinner table or under the covers. I could start vomiting at any moment. My mother and Ophelia had to clean me up more than 30 times a day. It wore them down to the breaking point. What infuriated them the most was that every time I finished throwing up, I would look at them and laugh, as if I was mocking them. The judge brought the gavel down and declared me guilty of being born bad. Ophelia's eyes turned red as she cried, saying she couldn't bear to lose me. I didn't cry or fight it. I accepted the verdict. But I requested that the judge watch my memories first. The judge looked stunned. "Memory extraction means drilling into your brain. The pain is unbearable. Are you sure?" I nodded without hesitation. But Ophelia suddenly panicked. "I don't agree!"