Time Of Our Life

My parents made Dana and me settle it with rock-paper-scissors. Loser had to marry the Baillieu heir—the so-called "freak." I won. Then flipped the script. "Cool. I'll take Blake. Dana can have the empire." Last time? I was dumb in love with Michael—Dad's adopted golden boy. Chose the company, stayed behind, and handed Dana off to Blake Baillieu. Big mistake. Six months in, Dana was gone—wrecked by that marriage. Right before she croaked, she texted Michael blaming me. Said I lost the game and ditched the deal, dumping Blake on her. Michael? Snapped. Dude went full psycho. Turns out, he and Dana had been sneaking around for years. He dragged me behind the Baillieu estate and forced a dozen intellectually disabled men to assault me. "If it weren't for your cruelty, Dana would still be alive! You'll pay for everything she suffered!" I was over eight months pregnant—almost due. Begged him to stop. Begged for my baby's life. He didn't care. Kept ordering them to take turns. Even when my water broke, he just watched. Both my baby and I died that night. Now? I'm back. And this time, I rewrote the story. Step one: marry Blake.

When Yelton Group tanked, their CEO and his wife showed up at our door, begging for a marriage alliance. My dad, thinking I was still head-over-heels for Rosie after ten freaking years, threw a million into their sinking ship and signed me up to marry Rosie. Wedding night? She blindfolded me and kept whispering how bad she wanted it. A month later, I tested positive for an STD. Then I caught her bragging to her friends. "Quinn got wrecked by, like, a dozen girls," she laughed. "Wanna guess who gave him the infection?" Her friends were cracking up. "I scouted all the grossest red-light spots," one said. "Each one's got a different flavor." "Just wait," another giggled. "When the symptoms hit hard, we'll know who wins." Rosie added, "Prize money's ready. Soon as we figure it out, she gets paid." That's when it hit me. It wasn't Rosie in bed that night—it was a lineup of strangers she set up. I lost it. Went straight to her, demanded answers. She didn't even flinch. "Mad? Please. If you hadn't dangled that million to force me into this marriage—or scared Caleb off—do you think I'd waste my time on you? "Once Caleb forgives me, you're done." I asked for a divorce. She locked me in the basement. "Chill," she said. "We're still placing bets on who gave you the STD." Six months later, I died down there. Just rotted away. Then I woke up—right back on the day her parents came begging for that deal. Only this time, on the wedding day? She was the one crying.

After being betrayed by a Wolf she held dear, leading to her death. Khloe, an omega, gets a chance to live a second time. She wakes up in the body of her school bully’s girlfriend and the most popular girl. **** “Hi, girlfriend.” I heard him say in his deep masculine voice as he leaned in to kiss my forehead. I felt anger and hatred surge through me. My eyes landed on the same lips he had spat on me with a few days ago, days before my death.

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.

He wasn’t searching for love. He wasn’t ready for him. But some things—like family, and falling—happen when you least expect them. When Ezra Anderson's sister dies, he inherits three young children and a crumbling rural property he's nowhere near prepared for. Overwhelmed, heartbroken, and freshly dumped, Ezra turns to the one person he shouldn't: Sebastian Brown—the gentle, steady Omega child psychologist he once shared one reckless night with... and never dared to call back. Sebastian offers a safe harbor. Routine. Warm hands and a softer kind of strength Ezra didn’t know he craved. What starts as survival—two men building a life for three grieving kids—soon strains under the weight of something deeper. The Omega in Sebastian draws Ezra like gravity, making every glance burn and every touch linger. The lines between family and something more blur until Ezra can no longer pretend. One night becomes two. Secrets slip into routines. And somewhere between sneaking into beds at night and morning coffee, Ezra faces the one truth he swore he'd never have to: He might not be as straight, or as strong, as he thought. As his Alpha instincts pull him closer to Sebastian’s Omega warmth, the world outside keeps pressing in. Desire stops hiding. And when the outside world comes knocking, Ezra is forced to choose: Keep pretending... or hold on to the only thing that feels like home. SNEAK PEEK: “I’m not in love with you. I just… don’t know how to breathe when you’re not there.” - Ezra “I’m not gay. I’m just yours.” - Ezra “You keep saying you’re not mine… but you keep choosing me.” - Sebastian “You’re allowed to love me, you know.” - Sebastian NB: 18+ (Tissues highly recommended.)

At the celebration where Lorenzo Alvarez is crowned the new mafia boss, his men arrange a few performances. A dancer in a backless top and short skirt twists around the pole under the lights. "Don't look," he murmurs, covering my eyes with his hand. "This kind of cheap entertainment isn't worthy of you." His men jump in immediately. "Lorenzo still spoils Ms. Valenti after all these years. That kind of devotion is rare. We're so jealous." "A man as loyal and single-minded as Lorenzo is hard to find." I rest a hand on my belly, planning to tell him tonight that I am pregnant. But when I return from the restroom, I see the same man who had just held me in his arms leaning back in his chair while the dancer straddles his lap. Lorenzo slips his business card and a thick fold of cash into the waistband of her skirt. He laughs, relaxed and unbothered. "Isabella is wonderful, sure, but life needs a little passion. This ragazza is just something new. A bit of fun. "Keep your mouths shut. Don't go running to Isabella and upset her. Otherwise, you'll have a problem." Cold rushes through me. I do not approach or confront Lorenzo. I simply take out my phone and answer the email I have been avoiding for days. "I agree to participate in the confidential experiment."

Princess Elara was destined to rule the Mooncrest Pack—until betrayal stole everything from her. Her so-called mate chose power over love, leaving her to die with a shattered heart and a stolen crown. But the Moon Goddess is not done with her. Reborn into her younger self, Elara remembers every lie, every deception, every knife in her back. This time, she will not be the naive princess who trusted the wrong wolf. This time, she will seize her destiny with fangs bared. Yet fate has its own cruel twist. The mate bond burns again… not with the traitor who destroyed her, but with his greatest rival—a ruthless Alpha prince feared across the lands. Torn between revenge and the pull of an irresistible bond, Elara must decide: will she risk her heart once more, or use her second chance to rewrite both her fate and the kingdom’s future?

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.

My husband took our six-year-old son to meet his first love, using him as a cover. At some point, he sent our son to buy burn cream. My sweet boy then encountered a lunatic who stabbed him to death. The pain in my heart was unbearable. When I saw the burn cream still in my son's hand, I broke down in tears. Yet, my husband called to berate me, "Look at the son you've raised, Shayla Joy! He burned Claire and didn't even apologize. Get him back here right now!"

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?