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Claimed By The Enemy Alphas

Claimed By The Enemy Alphas

"Stop running from the truth and your fate, Lia. If you do, we won't rest till we find you again.” “Tell me, who in the world gets mated to two Alpha's, doesn't it sound abnormal to you.” —-- Andalia Finley’s life fell apart the day her mate rejected her. Things only got worse when she was tied to someone else, a man who treated her like a replacement. Alongside him was his friend, another Alpha, who made her life even harder. Just when the pain became too much to carry, an accident took away a few of her memories, leaving her with a painful reminder that the thing about soulmate was a lie. After that, she and her mother spent months moving from pack to pack, always hiding, always looking for a place to feel safe. Her mother did everything she could to protect her, especially from the people who had hurt her before. One day, after surviving an accident, her mother made a risky choice, to let Andalia hide under a new name in a powerful enemy’s pack. She worked quietly as a maid in the Alpha’s mansion, thinking she could stay unnoticed. But fate had other plans. There, she met two Alphas. They were strong, feared, and painfully familiar. What happens when the moon goddess hits her in the face with, “Don't you underestimate me, I make things happen for a reason child.”
Werewolf
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Queen's Conquest - Warrior Queen's Harem

Queen's Conquest - Warrior Queen's Harem

Even though we live in modern times, the coven seems stuck in the Dark Ages. As the heir apparent to the throne, Zalindra is under pressure to marry in order to maintain the lineage's strength. Seriously? That feels so out of touch with today's world. Her true passion lies in honing her skills to protect the coven. Romance? Not a priority for her, let alone marriage. But everything changes when she encounters Lucian and Lorian. I hate to sound cliché, but it was a case of instant attraction. Just one tiny hiccup: they have no idea they're witches. That doesn't make me want them any less .
Fantasy
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Your uncle is a better choice, dear ex-husband

Your uncle is a better choice, dear ex-husband

"Let's get a divorce." Renna had said to her treacherous husband, Hayes Campbell, walking in on him with not one of his numerous mistresses that she knew of, but her sister, this time. Renna thought divorcing him would be the end of her misery but what about her father? The vicious man who she grew up to him finding fault in everything she did, she was his prodigal daughter while Nadia, her sister, was his favorite, despite how frequently she strayed. He disowned her right after the divorce and pushed her into the street. Divorced, disowned, and critically ill, Renna passed out on the street of New York. Renna thought she was dead until she opened her eyes in a hospital, and her ex-husband's uncle beside her. "Hey, kitten." He winked. "Don't call me that." Renna spat. "Fine, does Mrs Campbell sound better?" "Not that either," she mumbled. "Hayes and I are getting divorced." He was unusually quiet for a while, and when Renna looked up to his face, he had a smug smirk plastered all over. "Well, I guess that changes everything then." "What does that even..." "Marry me." "What?" "I will offer you a life every single lady on earth will be jealous of, kitten, the world will be at your feet, including your ex-husband, all you have to do is say yes." His name is Landon; Hayes's uncle and biggest threat. No one knew the mystery behind his hatred for Hayes. The business deals that Hayes wanted, he took them; Hayes popularity and influential spot in the country, he took that away, and now he has come for her. But not just as a game.
Romance
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My Mafia Husband Thought, I Was Innocent

My Mafia Husband Thought, I Was Innocent

Every tear I shed feeds his ego. Every whimper, his pride. Every bruise he leaves behind, his silent claim over me. He takes me cold. Leaves me ruined. And I wait - quiet, breathless, for the next time he comes back to break me again. He thinks he has me in the palm of his hand. Thinks I’m nothing without him. A fragile wife, meek, obedient. A weakness he never needed. I let him believe it. I never tried to break the illusion. As long as I have his hands on me, As long as his shadows reach for me, That’s enough. But in the dark, daggers roam. And with every sound my heels make, they fall. He still thinks I’m glass, But he hasn’t heard me shatter.
Romance
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No Longer Your Perfect Tool

No Longer Your Perfect Tool

The night Enzo was made boss of the Moretti family, I gave him my virginity. He was the heir I'd been promised to since before I could speak. We kissed against the floor-to-ceiling windows, tangled in the humid, twilight heat... His rough, urgent hands hurt me, but I didn't pull away. Even the pain felt sacred, a sacrifice I was willing to make for love. Lost in the heat of the moment, he promised me a pair of the most beautiful crystal shoes, so I could dance the opening waltz with him at his coronation ceremony the next day. The first dance is always reserved for the new boss and his future bride. I cried with joy, believing my years of secret pining and patient waiting would finally culminate in a fairytale ending. But I was wrong. So terribly wrong. The next morning, I dragged my aching body out to get his favorite espresso, only to overhear the guys joking as I returned: "So you finally popped the family cherry, huh? How was Vivian on your first night as boss?" Enzo's voice was lazy, mocking. "Face of an angel, body of a devil. She's a hot little viper in bed." The room erupted in sleazy whistles. "So, you really gonna marry her, young boss?" "Are you kidding me?" Enzo scoffed. "Vivian's just a warm-up. Once I get some practice in, I'll go tame the Falcone ice princess. When I get bored, I can always circle back and put a ring on her." I stood frozen in the doorway, my vision blurring, the coffee cup trembling in my hand. Before the world faded to black, I sent a coded message to the Don: "Uncle Romano, for the promotion in three days, get me a transfer. As far away from Enzo as possible."
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Would You Divorce Over a Cup of Coffee

Would You Divorce Over a Cup of Coffee

I was dying from my fear of heights, but my husband, Don Vincent, was busy with his assistant, savoring the latest coffee flown in from Hawaii that morning. "You're a grown woman, Bella. What's the big deal? You're stuck on a roof, figure it out." Then he hung up on me. I collapsed onto the hot tar of the roof, my body shaking uncontrollably before everything went black. It was two hours before building security found me. When I got home, I asked Vincent for a divorce. He rubbed his temples, his patience worn thin, looking at me as if I were a child throwing a tantrum. "Over a cup of coffee? I told you, the heights are all in your head. You’re perfectly safe now. Stop making a scene alright? What's this nonsense about a divorce? I have more important things to deal with. Calm yourself down." I stared at his back as he left, tears already streaming down my face. Something important? Did he really think I couldn't hear his assistant, Sophia, murmuring in the background? Did he think I didn't know he took her to the last family gathering? I had loved Vincent for three years. Everyone knew he was the center of my world. They all thought an orphan like me could never leave him. But now, all the love I had was eclipsed by a profound, soul-crushing exhaustion. I was done. I picked up my phone and dialed a number I hadn't touched in three long years. "Uncle, book me a flight to Seattle. I'm ready to leave Vincent."
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