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Six years ago, my sister and I fell for the same man, Edmund. But he only had eyes for Rosalie, the sweet, innocent type. With them, I was always the third wheel. They got married, of course. And on their wedding day, I overheard my parents whispering. "The company's strapped for cash," my father said. "What if we marry Corinne off to our business partner? That'd solve our problem..." This "partner" was over fifty and twice divorced. So I ran. I fled to Sicily with the only five thousand dollars to my name. I ran on pure bitterness. In four years, I brought dozens of small-time Sicilian crews to heel and forged my own family: Vexille. In another two, I came back to New York and quietly became the most powerful woman in the North American underworld. By then, Edmund's power was crumbling, hit hard by a rival family. That's when my mother called, her voice full of that same old entitlement. "Your brother-in-law's in some trouble. Figure out a way to help him." Then a text from my sister, Rosalie, dripping with contempt: "Sister, I remember you have a little casino in Sicily, right? So you must know something about that Vexille family." "Edmund needs their help. See what you can dig up." They still don't know. I'm the Don of the Vexille family. I glanced at the schedule my advisor had prepared. Tomorrow, 9:00 AM. A sit-down with some minor family looking for a handout. The name on the file: Edmund.

My husband Preston smashed up the solo art show I'd spent three years building for Vivian, the poor girl we had sponsored through college. "Chloe! What the hell did you send Vivian?!" "She read your goddamn text and suffered a depressive episode! She nearly jumped off the rooftop!" I looked at his furious face and the whole thing struck me as absurd. "Preston. What exactly did I send? I told her that today was the opening of my show and asked her not to call you during it." "She's sick! Why do you have to make every little thing a fight! If anything happens to her because of you — I'll never forgive you." With that, he didn't even glance at me. He turned and bolted back out into the storm. I didn't cry. I didn't even have the energy to be furious. I turned to leave, but in the rain, I ran into Rowan—a classmate from college. He used to be the most popular guy at our school — sweet and hot. But now he was severely injured. The torrential rain had soaked his shirt, revealing his perfect abs beneath. Without hesitation, I took him back to my apartment. Preston showed up pounding on the door, eyes red with rage. "Chloe — I'm gone for an hour and you drag some guy off the street into our bed?" I sneered and stepped in front of Rowan. "If you can play free therapist to some other woman, why can't I try being a philanthropist?"

"We can't do this," I whispered, even as Jamie's fingers traced my jaw. "Tell me to stop," he commanded, his grey eyes darkening with desire. I should have. But instead: "I can't." His hand slid beneath my shirt. "This is wrong." "Then stop touching me." "I can't." His voice was raw. "Every night I think about you. About this." When his mouth finally claimed mine, it tasted like sin and salvation. His hands gripped my waist, lifting me onto the counter. I wrapped my legs around him, and reality dissolved. "Right now, you're mine," he growled against my neck. "Even knowing what it costs?" I gasped. "Even then." What happened in that kitchen was unforgivable. Beautiful and terrible and absolutely devastating. But our secret didn't stay buried. When a mysterious text arrives—*"I saw what you did"*—followed by photos taken through my window, I realize someone was watching. Someone knows. And they're not just threatening to tell Aiden. They're playing a twisted game where we're all pieces on the board. As paranoia turns to obsession and obsession bleeds into violence, I face an impossible truth: the person I should fear most might be the one I thought I knew best. **Some secrets refuse to stay buried. Some desires demand everything. And some love stories end in blood.**

I was in a long-distance relationship with my boyfriend. It had been three years, and he never let me go to him. I cried, I protested, and I even shouted at him. Alas, all he did was give me a tired answer. "It's for your own good, Wendy." I shut up because that really was the truth. I had made frequent trips to him during the first year we were together. The first time I went, I forgot to turn off the stove, and the fire burned my house down. The second time I went, the elevator I took malfunctioned. I was locked inside for hours. The loss of oxygen nearly knocked me out. Then, the third time came. I didn't think my luck would be this rotten, but it was. On my way to the airport, I ran into a car crash and stayed in the ICU for three days. Since then, he came to me. The fateful day came. My company sent me on a trip to Imperia. I didn't tell Chris and prayed to God that this trip would go smoothly. My prayers were answered, and the plane landed smoothly. I was so excited about my change in luck. I was about to text Chris to tell him all about it when I turned around and saw him standing among the crowd of people picking up the passengers. He was holding a bouquet of roses. I thought either my friend told him, or we were secretly telepathic. Just when I was going to approach him, I saw him smiling at a girl and pulling her into his embrace. Then, they kissed.

I have an ability in which I can see the countdown to someone's emotional departure. The day Dad's countdown hits zero, he leaves behind divorce papers and abandons Mom and me. The day my best friend's countdown hits zero, she finally dumps her jerk of a boyfriend. I'm always terrified of seeing a countdown appear above Levi Hammond's head. But thankfully, seven years into our marriage, his head is still clear. I am thankful every day that I married a good man. However, when he picks me up from work last month, I look up and see bright red text burning into my vision. [702 days, 14 hours, 22 minutes.] That's less than two years from now. My heart clenches, and I frantically search for answers in my head. Have I done something wrong? Has he changed his mind? Things don't fall into place until our anniversary, when we run into his intern, Belinda Manning, outside his office building during a torrential downpour. She's soaked to the skin, but she still has a bright smile on her face. Levi hands her a pack of tissues to dry off, his face unreadable. However, in that instant, the countdown suddenly jumps. [327 days, 4 hours, 47 minutes.] The number of days has dropped by more than 300. The sound of rain is deafening in my ears. But I know now that I have found the reason for it.

I was the perfect wife. For three years, I built my husband’s empire, gave him my love, my loyalty, my designs. And how did Victor Hale repay me? He stole my womb. He stole my daughter. He stole my freedom. That was the day Aurora Hale died. Now I live as Rhea Ashford — and I want blood. One reckless night, I mistake Damien Voss, a ruthless crime-lord biker with a wicked smile, for his powerful CEO twin brother. One bed. One touch. One unforgettable sin. When Damien discovers who I am and what I want, he makes me a deal: marry him, and he’ll give me the power and protection to ruin the man who destroyed me. It’s easy. He wants me, so I become his bride. I want revenge, so he becomes my weapon. But Damien isn’t just temptation in leather and ink. He’s dangerous. Addictive. A man who plays by no rules but his own. And in this contract marriage tangled with lust and lies, I can’t tell if I’m the one using him— Or if he’s already claimed me as his. TW: This story is intended for 18+ mature audiences only. It contains explicit sexual content (including kink, elements of BDSM dynamics), strong language, and other mature themes. Reader discretion is advised. BOOK 1 OF THE PRINCES OF SIN TRILOGY

"Mommy..." Five years ago, my own twin sister stole my newborn pups and left me to burn in the Crimson Moon Tower. I escaped into the dark wild woods, broken and alone, with two hidden secret pups she never found. Now, I am back in Ravenmoor Moon City, hiding my true face behind an ugly mask, working as a special bone reader for the Alpha Council. I only want one thing: revenge. But the moment I step foot inside the Ravenmoor Gateway, a little mute princess from the powerful Blackthorne Bloodmoon Pack runs up and hugs my legs. For the first time in her life, she speaks—and she calls me her mother. Enter Supreme Alpha King Idris Blackthorne. He is the most dangerous, powerful ruler in the entire Alpha Council Corporate Circle. He is hunting down the strange, plain omega woman who made his daughter talk. He does not know I am the real mate he claimed in the dark five years ago. He does not know his twins and my twins are actually part of the same secret bloodline prophecy. I try to stay away to protect my hidden pups, but the mate bond draws us close. When the Alpha Succession War begins, secrets will explode. Can a hidden Moonborn Alpha Queen take back her throne, or will the Supreme Alpha King find out the truth under my mask?

⚠️ DARK ROMANCE CONTENT WARNING This is a very dark mafia romance intended for mature readers (18+). It contains a morally gray anti-hero, obsession, possessiveness, emotional manipulation, BDSM, and explicit sexual content. If you crave danger, obsession, and morally complicated passion, this dark romance will grip you—but reader discretion is strongly advised. * After waking up in her mafia husband's bed, dizzy and disoriented, Rosa is forced by the powerful Italian Don to sign divorce papers. Believing his mother and girlfriend's claim that Rosa drugged him to get into his bed, Luciano ensures she is thrown out of not only his life and home, but also the country itself. Years later, Rosa returns with a secret. But when Luciano Mancino, the formidable Italian Don, sees his ex-wife happy and building a new life with the renowned Dr. DeLuca, he experiences something he has never felt before—jealousy. A fierce, possessive need to reclaim the woman he once cast aside consumes him. Except Rosa isn't coming back. Not when marrying a gentle, caring man like Dr. DeLuca promises her the safe future and loving family she has always longed for. But Rosa isn't the only one hiding something. Buried deep within Luciano's heart is a secret so dangerous that, if revealed, it could destroy all of their lives beyond repair.

When my younger sister, Paige Nielson, was three months pregnant, she was struck by a car, killing her and her unborn baby on the spot. My CEO wife, Christina Ashmore, vowed vengeance on the driver; that he shall pay the price with his own life. But when she found out that the accused is actually Roland Burstyn, her first love who had disappeared for the past seven years, she decided to sign the letter of forgiveness on my behalf. Afraid that I might secretly sue Roland once again, Christina had me admitted into a psychiatric hospital. Throughout the next three years, I had six ribs broken by others, not to mention I lost an eye as well. When the psychiatric hospital is found to not have all legal credentials that can keep it running, I'm finally released from its confines. When Christina and I meet again, she pats me off-handedly on the shoulder. "I'm only able to reunite with Roland after so long, so I can't handle the pain of losing him again. Anyway, I already bought Paige the best graveyard plot one can afford. Roland doesn't owe you anything now. As long as you don't target him, I can keep supporting you financially." I don't respond to Christina at all. Instead, I text my dad, whom I've cut ties with for a decade. "I can forgive you, but it comes with a condition. You need to avenge me."

On my birthday, I go out to eat with my family. I make a wish, hoping that we will always stay happily together. When I open my eyes, I see my son, Luigi Marino, holding up his tablet. On the screen, a line of text reads, "Dad, Maria says she's pregnant with your baby. Am I going to get a new mom?" Giovanni Marino is busy taking pictures of me with a Polaroid. He glances at the screen casually before writing a reply on the back of the photo. "No. I made a promise with your mom. If either of us betrays the other, we will have to disappear from the other's life forever. I can't live without your mom. So, you have to help me keep this from her. Even if Maria's baby is born, they will never appear in front of your mom." After writing that, he looks at me and asks in a gentle voice, "What's wrong, my love? Why are your eyes red? Did the smoke from the candles irritate them?" My tears are about to fall, but I force a smile and reply, "I'm fine. The birthday gift you all prepared for me is wonderful. I'm so touched that I can't help but cry." He doesn't know that my dyslexia was cured a week ago. It seems I no longer have to hesitate about the job offer from a well-known international nonprofit that teaches children with dyslexia how to read. The paperwork will be done in seven days. When that time comes, I will disappear from their world completely.